I, Panacea
by ack1308
Summary: Amy Dallon is a teenage girl in Brockton Bay. She is better known as the superhero Panacea. She is caught in a robbery at the Brockton Bay Central Bank, and is knocked out. When she wakes up, she's not alone in her head ...
1. Chapter 1

**I, Panacea**

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><p><strong>A Worm SI Story<strong>

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><p>Part 1: Oh No, Not Again<p>

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><p><em>Disclaimers:<em>

_1) This story is set in the Wormverse, which is owned by Wildbow. Thanks for letting me use it._

_2) I will follow canon as closely as I can. If I find something that canon does not cover, then I will make stuff up. If canon then refutes me, then I will revise. Do not bother me with fanon; corrections require citations._

_3) I welcome criticism of my works, but if you tell me that something is wrong, I also expect an explanation of what is wrong, and a suggestion of how to fix it. Note that I do not promise to follow any given suggestion.__ Posting a negative review from an anonymous account is a good way to have said review deleted._

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><p><strong>14 April 2011<strong>

**Brockton Bay Central Bank**

**Just after midday**

* * *

><p>"Eight seconds."<p>

Amy wasn't really sure if Tattletale was bluffing, or if she really had damaging information about Amy's real father. She did seem very sure of herself. On the other hand, Amy _really_ didn't want these two supervillains – they weren't any older than her! - to get away with robbing the bank in broad daylight.

Gambling that the bug girl was just bluffing, that she wouldn't really cut her throat, Amy lunged free of her grip. She met Vicky's eyes as she got free; Vicky nodded slightly and went for Tattletale. The girl in the skin-tight outfit tried to get behind a desk, but Vicky simply went over it, shoving her backward with all the power of which she was capable.

For a moment, Amy thought that Glory Girl might simply fly _into_ the wall, crushing the girl to a bloody pulp, but she stopped just short of it. Giving Tattletale a hard shove that slammed her into the wall, she put her hand over the girl's mouth. Amy approved; Tattletale's voice seemed to be the most dangerous thing about her.

_Now to deal with the bug girl._

Amy began to turn back toward the second supervillain. She'd already shown herself unwilling to use the knife on Amy, so all Amy had to do -

Too late, she heard the metallic _click-click-click-click._

_That's not a gun._

The extendible baton caught her just above the ear. She staggered a couple of feet, then tumbled to the ground.

=/=

"-an you hear me, miss? Hello? Can you hear me?"

There was a bright light shining in her eye. She tried to blink; the reflex happened, but it was late. A second or so after she applied the effort. The light shifted to her other eye; again, the blink was late. Really, really late.

"Can you hear me?" asked the voice again.

She tried to frame an answer, but her lips and tongue were unresponsive.

And then she answered, anyway. "Yes. I can hear you."

_That wasn't what I was going to say!_

_**What?**_

The voice in the back of her head startled her. It was distinct from her own thoughts, audible over the buzz of sound around her.

"Where … where am I?" she heard herself ask, to her utter consternation. She _knew _where she was.

_**Okay, where am I?**_

_What? Who are you? Where are you?_

_**Right here. Who are you? What are you doing in my head? And where am I?**_

The man asking questions, the paramedic, asked, "Do you remember your name?"

"I, uh -" her lips faltered.

_**What's my name? Where am I?**_

_I don't know what your name is, but my name's Amy Dallon. Now get out of my head!_

_**I thought this was **_**my_ head. Fuck._**

"- uh, Amy Dallon -"

Whatever was controlling her lips, her speech, seemed to freeze up at that moment.

_**Oh, you have to be fucking **_**kidding_ me._**

_What would I be kidding you about?_

A silent groan. _**I'm in fucking Brockton Bay again, aren't I?**_

Mentally, she frowned. _I'm in Brockton Bay, yes. Why?_

**_What date is it?_**

_What does that matter to you?_

**_A lot._**

At that moment, the paramedic asked, "Miss Dallon, do you know what date it is?"

A sigh. _**Did you just get hit in the head by a girl who could control bugs, right after you clocked her with a fire extinguisher?**_

_You forgot about the bit where she held a knife to my throat._

_**She wasn't going to use it. She just didn't want to get pummelled to a pulp by your foster sister.**_

Out loud, her lips said, "April fourteenth, two thousand and eleven."

_How did you know that now, when you didn't know it before?_

The voice was grim. _**Trust me, Amy, I know this shit. Can you control your body at all? I'm letting go.**_

She felt a subtle relaxation, all over her body. Exerting herself, she strained to blink her eyes, move a finger, do anything.

Nothing happened.

_Oh god, what's happened to me?_

_**I have an idea. Not the how, but the what.**_

_What? Tell me. Please._

_**When you got hit, you got … jarred. Jolted loose from your body. And stupid fucking me dropped into the command seat before you got back.**_

_What? How is that even possible?_

_**Oh, trust me.** _The grim tone was back. _**I have a habit of doing this shit.**_

"Amy." The voice was Vicky's. "Can you move? Can you get up?"

She felt the stranger in her mind reassert control, and she got up, moving awkwardly. Vicky helped her, supporting her, until her footing was steady.

"Thanks," her voice sounded strange in her ears. "Are you all right, Vicky?"

Glory Girl's face was blotched with insect bites, and her eyes were reddened. "I'll be fine. I'll be a lot better once I catch up with the Undersiders."

"Here, let me help you with that." Amy felt her hand rest on her sister's bare skin. There was a pause.

_**Okay, how do I turn it on?**_

_Turn what on?_

_**Your biokinesis. You want to heal your sister's bug bites, right?**_

_How did you even know I had biokinesis?_

A sigh. _**Oh, for fuck's sake. Are we going to trust each other, or not?**_

_How can I trust you? You haven't even told me your name._

A pause. _**I haven't? I thought I had.**_

_No. You hadn't._

_**Ah. Sorry. My name's Michael Allen.**_

_That doesn't tell me much. Are you a Thinker?_

_**No. I'm a security guard.**_

_You have to be joking._

_**I only wish I was. Now, can I have the keys to the car, or not?**_

… _I don't think so. Not for the moment._

A sigh. _**Great.**_

She realised that Vicky was looking at her expectantly. "Amy?"

Her arm lifted and her hand pressed to her forehead. "Sorry, Vicky. Head's a bit sore. I'm finding it a little hard to concentrate. Maybe later?"

_That's weak._

_**Spur of the moment, okay?**_

_You realise, Vicky's known me all my life. She'll realise it's not me running the show sooner or later._

_**It's not like I planned this, okay?**_

_You could tell them what's happened._

_**Oh, for fuck's sake. I don't even **_**know_ what happened. Just that it did. And how's it going to sound? "Hey, listen. I'm not really Amy, I'm just driving her body while she gives me advice from the back seat." Master/Stranger protocols much?_**

… _oh._

_**Yeah. Oh. Now listen, there's things we need to discuss.**_

Amy was vaguely aware that her sister had replied to her, and was waiting for her to answer.

_Aren't you going to talk to her?_

_**What? What did she say?**_

_I thought you were listening._

_**No. No, I was not.**_

"Uh, sorry," she heard herself say. "I was kind of distracted."

"I'll say you are, Ames," Vicky told her. "I was thinking we call in sick from school and go straight home. You look like you need about a week of bed rest."

Amy felt herself nodding. "Yeah, that's a really good idea. I'm not feeling the greatest."

Vicky frowned. "Maybe you should go to the hospital?"

"Uh, no," she replied. "Just a lie down should do me the world of good."

Glory Girl nodded. "Yeah, me too. And once you feel better, maybe you can do something about these insect bites. They sting like crazy."

Mentally, Amy bit her lip. _Oh, Vicky …_

She 'heard' Michael Allen – whoever _that_ was – sigh._** I offered to heal her.**_

She felt Vicky gather her up, and they lifted into the air, the wind whistling through her hair.

_And if I showed you how to turn on my powers, you'd have access to them then._

_**You can trust me. Seriously. I'm not going to misuse your powers.**_

_Sorry, I need more assurance than that._

Her body rolled its eyes._** And how exactly am I supposed to give you proof?**_

_That's not my problem._

**_You're right. It's _our_ problem. And it will continue being our problem until you learn to cooperate with me. Oh, and one other thing._**

_What?_

**_I know about you being in love with Vicky. That ends now._**

A frozen lump encased her heart. _What?_

_**You heard me. In any case, it's not you. It's her. She used that damn aura of hers once too often on you, when she first got her powers.**_

_I – that can't be -_

Abruptly, her body went limp, every muscle relaxing. Instinctively, she tried to assert control again.

Nothing.

Allen took over again, turning her head toward Vicky, who was looking at her with concern.

"Amy?" asked her sister. "What was that? You scared me."

She felt herself nodding. "I just … felt weak for a bit. If you can get me home, I'll try to rest."

The wind-rush increased. "Okay, Ames. Just hang on. I'll get you there."

_**Dammit, thought that might work.**_

_What might work?_

_**Giving you a shock, then letting go. See if you could regain control.**_

_Well, it didn't work._ She paused. _Was that a lie, then? To shock me?_

_**Nope. Truth, as far as I know.**_

_It … it can't be._

_**Sure it can. Also, your stepmother is wrong.**_

… _about?_

_**You. You're not about to turn into a supervillain, just because your father is one.**_

_What?_

_**What what?**_

_My father's a supervillain?_

_**Well, duh. Why do you think Brandish has been down on you all your life? She thinks 'like father like daughter'. Which is utter bullshit.**_

_Uh … is it?_

_**Sure. My dad raises cattle. I'm a security guard. You know O'Hare Airport in Chicago?**_

Bewildered by the change of subject, she responded anyway. _Uh, yes?_

**_The guy it was named after, a flying ace in World War 2, his dad was the accountant for Al Capone. We do not grow up to be our parents._**

_I … I guess?_

**_I don't guess. I know. Ah, we're coming in for a landing. This where you live?_**

_What, something you don't know?_

_**Oh, har har. Listen, once you have a bit of a camp -**_

_A what?_

_**A sleep,**_ he replied patiently.**_ Hopefully you'll be back in control. But I still need to talk to you about stuff._**

_What sort of stuff?_

_**Saving the world.**_

Amy had no answer to that.

=/=

Vicky landed more or less on the front doorstep, and set Amy on her feet. She felt the stranger behind her eyes take control of her body; when Vicky opened the door, she watched herself step through and into the house.

She hadn't gone three paces when Carol was there, staring at the two of them.

"And what happened to you two?"

"There was a bank robbery, Mom," Vicky began. "Amy got hurt -"

"Not too badly, I see," Carol broke in. "I don't see any blood." She nodded to Vicky. "But what happened to you, Victoria?"

"Bug bites," mumbled Vicky. "Look, Amy's not feeling too good, so I was thinking she could have a shower and go to bed."

"And Amy hasn't healed you yet?" demanded Carol. "Why not?"

_**Because someone won't show me how.**_

_Because I know what my powers could do if I wasn't careful with them. And I don't trust you to be careful._

_**Gee, thanks a lot.**_

_Would you trust a total stranger with your powers?_

"She's _not feeling good_, Mom," Vicky repeated. "She got hit in the head. They think she might have a mild concussion."

Carol stared at them for a long moment, then nodded curtly. "Go ahead. But I want to hear more about it, once you're both feeling better."

Vicky nodded, and put an arm around Amy's shoulders. "Come on, Ames, let's get you upstairs."

* * *

><p>Her body paused as they reached the upstairs corridor.<p>

_**Uh, which one's your room?**_

_Why don't you figure it out for yourself?_

A sigh. _**Amy, I'm on your side. Work with me, here.**_

She relented a little. _Okay, second on the right._

**_Thanks._**

His control over her body's movements wasn't perfect yet; either that, or the body itself was still a bit woozy from the hit to the head. In any case, she stumbled over the threshold of her room, where the carpet stuck up a bit. Immediately, Vicky was at her side, supporting her.

"Hey, are you all right?"

"Yeah," Amy heard herself say. "I'm fine. Just gonna lie down for a bit."

_**Oh god, please do not offer to help me get undressed.**_

_What are **you** worried about? It's my body._

_**Oh god. You had to remind me. Okay, not getting undressed.**_

_What, not ever?_

_**Amy. You're a sixteen year old girl. I'm a forty-four year old man. I am not going to go there.**_

_I have to shower **sometime**. And girls have hygiene needs too._

_**Fuck, I hope you have control back by the time we need to do that.**_

He honestly sounded worried; she took pity on him. _So do I, Michael. So do I._

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><p>End of Part One<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**I, Panacea**

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><p>Part Two: Getting Along<p>

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><p><em>[Author's Note: the character Michael Allen is the same character who features in Security! This story is a sequel of sorts to that one; the action of Security! is resolved before I, Panacea starts.<em>

_Yes, he's getting sick and tired of this.]_

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><p>Amy blinked her way awake. There was a thumping on her door.<p>

"Ames!" she heard Vicky calling. "Phone call!"

She pushed herself to a sitting position and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Coming," she replied.

She was on her feet before she realised what was going on. _I'm in control again! Oh, thank god!_ She paused. _Was that just a hallucination or something? Did I imagine it?_

_**Nope. Afraid not.**_

She stumbled in mid-step, would have fallen if her arm hadn't shot out and grabbed the door frame.

_**Careful there, kiddo.**_

As quickly as she had lost control of her limb, she regained it; she could almost literally feel the outside force retreating, leaving her in command of her body once more.

_Oh god, it wasn't a dream. It was real._ She started to hyperventilate.

_**Yeah, look, sorry. I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier. Please calm down. Freaking out isn't going to do anyone any good.**_

Her fear, her apprehension came to the fore. _Calm down? CALM DOWN? Are **you** the one with the strange voice stuck in your head?Are **you** the one who keeps having their body taken over by an outside force?_

_**No,**_" he told her flatly,_** I'm the one stuck in a strange body with no way to go home. So yeah, I'm freaking just a bit too.**_ There was a pause; she imagined him taking a deep breath. _**So can we both please take a step back and think about what we're going to say next?**_

He was so obviously trying to be reasonable that she did calm down, just a bit. _So why are you here? In my head?_

_**I can't be sure, but I have the distinct idea that I'm supposed to save the world.**_

_You said that before. Save the world? From what?_

_**I … can we go into that later, when we have more time? Your sister said something about a phone call.**_

_Oh. Right._

_**It'll be the Wards.**_

_How do you know that?_

_**Because they got fairly beaten about, fighting the Undersiders. Especially Aegis. And because you went to see them the last time.**_

_The last time what?_

_**The last time you did this.**_ He paused. _**Well, not the **_**last**_** time last time. That time, no-one got hurt. Let's say the 'first' time.**_ Another pause. _**Look, can you just answer the phone? Please?**_

_Why don't you answer it? You didn't have any problem with acting for me before._

_**Because now we have a choice, and I'd rather not. I want you in control of your body.**_

She blinked. _What?_

_**Amy, we're going to need to be partners here. Work together. And for that to work, we're going to need to agree to boundaries. I think "no taking over your partner's body without her express permission" is a good start, don't you?**_

Somewhat taken aback, she nodded. _I … I guess._

"Ames?" came Vicky's voice from outside the door. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she called back. "Just … thinking about something." She took hold of the door handle, opened the door. Her body worked smoothly, with easy coordination. There was no outside control going on.

* * *

><p>Vicky was standing there, holding the cordless phone, her face still swollen and welted. She handed it over to Amy. "It's the PRT, calling about the Wards."<p>

_You were right._

A mental impression of a shrug. _**Educated guess.**_

Numbly, Amy took the phone. "Hello?"

It was Deputy Director Renick on the other end; Amy had spoken with him before. As the voice in her head had predicted, he was asking for her to come in and heal the Wards of their most grievous wounds.

Which reminded her; Vicky still bore the marks of the bugs that had apparently swarmed her after Amy had been knocked out.

_**You might want to heal her at some point too.**_

_I'm not sure if I can trust you with my powers._ In her head was a mental image of herself, under the compulsion of the voice within her head, using her powers willy-nilly. Hurting people. Killing people.

_**To be honest, I don't think I **_**can**_** use your powers. They're hooked into you, not me.**_

_Really?_

_**Yeah, really.**_

_So why were you so anxious to know how to use them, earlier?_

His voice was patient. _**Because I wasn't sure if you were ever going to regain control of your body.**_

_Oh._

In her ear, Renick seemed to be waiting for a response.

She made a snap decision. "Uh, yeah. I'll be there." Hanging up the call, she handed the phone back to her sister. Touching Vicky's hand, she felt her power kicking in, reading her sister's body, telling Amy exactly what was wrong with it.

It took only the slightest exertion of her power to reverse the effects of the bites, to cause Vicky's body to metabolise the toxins, to smooth out the welts, to take away the irritation.

_**Wow.**_

_What?_

_**That was … awesome. Sheer poetry.**_

_You were watching?_

_**Unless I choose not to, I see everything you do.**_

Vicky raised her hand to her face. "Thanks, Ames. You're obviously feeling better?" Her voice was low, her eyes dull.

Amy smiled at her. "I'm feeling much more myself, yeah."

"So you're needed at the PRT building then, huh?"

Amy nodded. "Yeah. We need to help out the Wards. Give me a lift?"

Vicky shook her head. "Uh … rain check? Whatever Tattletale did to me really knocked the stuffing out of me. I just want to curl up under my quilt and not come out for a week." She did her best to muster a smile. "Get Dad to drive you?"

Amy nodded and headed back into her room. Closing the door, she leaned against it, breathing heavily.

* * *

><p><em><strong>What's up?<strong>_

_I hate lying to my sister._

_**You weren't lying. You just weren't telling her everything.**_

_Which is still lying._

His voice was patient. _**Amy. You do that every day anyway. Remember?**_

_Don't remind me. Anyway, you're saying that you can experience everything I do?_

_**Unless I concentrate on something else, yeah.**_

_That could get really creepy, really fast._

_**Uh yeah, I think I already pointed that out. Which is why I want for us to come to some sort of a partnership understanding sooner rather than later.**_

_Well, it's going to be a one-sided partnership. You seem to have all the leverage._ Her inner voice was bitter. _After all, you can take over my body any time you like._

_**Not by choice!**_ It was almost a shout. After a moment, she felt him relaxing. _**Sorry. Not by choice. And anyway, you have access to your powers and I don't.**_

She was shocked. _You tried to **use** them?_

_**Nope. I watched **_**you **_**use them. And I still have no idea how that works.**_

_Oh. Right._

She opened her closet and pulled out the robes she habitually wore as Panacea, and laid them out on the bed. Then she went to pull her t-shirt off -

_**Whoa! Wait! What are you doing?**_

_I need a shower. So I'm going to take one._

_**Oh god, okay. Let me get ready. Right, okay.**_

She could hear him humming to himself as she took her clothes off and wrapped herself in the towel.

"Just going for a shower!" she called to Vicky as she stepped out of her room.

"Already there!" was the reply, from the bathroom.

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><p>The humming in the back of her head intensified as she entered the bathroom; Vicky was already in the shower, the water running. Deliberately, she kept her eyes away from the shower cubicle.<p>

"Can you make it quick?" she asked her sister.

"I was just about done. Wanted to feel clean again after those bug bites."

True to her word, Vicky turned the shower off and stepped from the cubicle, reaching for her towel. Involuntarily, Amy found her eyes wandering toward her sister's body -

_**LALALALALALALALALALA!**_

Startled, Amy jumped, then jerked her eyes away from Vicky.

_Will you stop doing that? That's very distracting!_

_**It's MEANT to be! Stop looking at her!**_

Rather than argue the point, Amy pulled off her towel, trying to ignore the "lalalalalalala" that had emerged in the back of her head once more, and stepped into the shower cubicle. She turned on the shower, but when she went to nudge the lever toward 'hot', her hand moved of its own accord and it went toward 'cold' instead. A freezing spray of water hit her, and she gasped.

_What the hell are you doing?_

His voice was terse. _**Cold shower. Do you the world of good.**_

_What – is this because I looked at Vicky?_

_**Yes. Now get clean. We've got some Wards to go heal.**_

_At least let me use the hot water._

A sigh. _**Fine. Okay. Just get it over and done with.**_

Gritting her teeth, Amy nudged the lever back over to 'hot', and felt the water temperature become something more comfortable than 'arctic'. Then she started to wash herself.

_**Lalalalalalalala …**_

_Will you stop doing that?_

_**When you stop running your hands over yourself. Lalalalala …**_

_That's very irritating._

He didn't answer, unless she counted "lalalalalalala ..." as an answer.

=/=

By the time she was dressing, he was reciting poetry in her head. She had to admit, it was an improvement on "lalalalala", but she was puzzled and intrigued by some of the verses.

_**Then fast the horsemen followed, where the gorges deep and black**_

_**Resounded to the thunder of their tread ...**_

_Okay, I'm dressed._

He stopped reciting. _**Oh, good.**_

_That was an interesting poem._

_**Uh, I memorised it once upon a time. It was a way to pass the time.**_

_I think I like it. I'd like to hear the whole thing sometime._

_**Sure thing. When we get a chance. But right now, we need to discuss matters.**_

_What matters?_

_**Improving your situation, for one. And saving the world, for two.**_

_Improving **my** situation?_

_**Yeah. Right now, your home life? Toxic as all hell. You have to change things, or it's going to go downhill fast.**_

_How am I going to do that? And why will it go downhill? And why do you say my home life is toxic?_

"Amy girl?" called Mark Dallon from outside her room. "Are you ready to go?"

"Nearly," Amy replied, adjusting her hood. "Okay, ready."

She opened the door and joined her foster father. They walked downstairs together.

_Well, are you going to give me a straight answer?_

_**Sure, but first I need to talk to you about the Undersiders.**_

_What about the Undersiders?_

_**About how they're not as bad as you think. In fact, I think you need to reach out to them. They could help you, and you could help them.**_

She stopped dead, halfway down the stairs. _You have got to be fucking kidding me._

Mark went a few more steps, then turned to stare at her. "Amy? Something the matter?"

She mustered a smile. "No, I, uh, just remembered something. Let's go." She started down the steps again.

_Seriously, you have to be kidding._

_**Not a word of it.**_

_Wait a minute._ She paused, remembering. _The Undersiders have that guy, Regent. He can control minds. You're Regent, aren't you? Fucking with my head?_

_**And nope again. Regent can't control minds, only bodies. Also, he needs to spend about a day working on someone before he can gain full control of them. And he can't talk to them mentally.**_

_The shadow guy, Grue, then._

_**Creates darkness. Doesn't do control.**_

_The bug girl._

_**She controls bugs, not people. And by the time you get to the PRT HQ, the Wards will have chosen the name 'Skitter' for her.**_

_What – how do you know that?_

A sigh. _**Because I've been through this all before. And before you ask, Bitch makes dogs grow, and she understands them really well, and Tattletale is super intuitive. That's it. Oh, and you might want to get in the car.**_

* * *

><p>She looked around; she was standing by the car, and her father was holding the door open for her. "Ready to go, Amy girl?"<p>

"Sure." She climbed into the car, and in moments they were on the road. The delay gave her time to think, and she went on the attack.

_How do I know you aren't lying to me?_

_**You don't. That's what trust is about, I guess.**_

_I don't have much of a basis to trust you on, you know._

_**I know. Which is a real problem. Because there are things happening, bad things, and we only have a narrow window of opportunity to get on top of them, and I'd really rather be on the same page as you before we start.**_

His words sent a chill down her spine.

_Bad things?_

_**Really bad things.**_

_Like what?_

_**Like a twelve year old girl being kidnapped and forced to use her powers to make a supervillain even more powerful.**_

_Okay, now that just sounds like the plot to a bad movie. How can he force her to use her powers, without her using them on him?_

_**She's a precog, a powerful one. Right now, right this very second, he's forcibly addicting her to the drugs which he will use to control her.**_

She felt sick at the idea, but continued to argue. _So where's this happening?_

_**Right here in Brockton Bay.**_

_I don't believe you. If there was a precog that strong, I've never heard of her. And definitely not one that's only twelve._

_**She only triggered very recently.**_

_So how come she didn't see him coming and take steps?_

_**Because he's a precog too, of a different type. And he made sure she knew that whatever she tried, he would kill people dear to her.**_

She paused. _Oh. Okay, do these people have names, or is this all just hypothetical?_

_**Yes. The supervillain is called Coil. And the girl's name is Dinah Alcott. She's the mayor's niece.**_

She rolled her eyes. _Really. The mayor's niece. Sounds more and more like a bad movie all the time._

He sounded just like he was gritting his teeth. _**You **_**have_ heard of Coil, right?_**

_Sure. But he's just a bit player. A low tier operator. And you're saying he's a precog?_

_**He's a lot more powerful than he lets on. He specialises in working from the shadows. The bank robbery? He was behind it. He's got several supervillain gangs on his payroll.**_

_I'm really not sure that I believe you. Especially since I haven't heard of any such kidnapping._

He sighed. _**Why do you think the bank robbery went off in broad daylight? It was intended to draw everyone's attention. Several other big flashy crimes would have happened around the same time. All to act as distractions, so his men could grab Dinah.**_

_She's that important to him?_

_**In a nutshell - yes. He would cheerfully shoot any of his men - or his super-powered minions - in the head, to ensure that he keeps hold of her.**_

_All this could just be a fabrication. You could be lying through your metaphorical teeth. _But she was starting to wonder.

_**It's easy to prove or disprove. Get on to the mayor, ask where his niece Dinah is. If he can locate her, or if he doesn't have a niece, then I'm lying. If she's missing, then ... yeah.**_

She paused. He was right. His challenge was simple, direct, and to the point.

_What if he's not lying?_

_**Still right here, you know.**_

_Go away. Let me think._

_**Love to. Let me know how it goes.**_

* * *

><p>His presence seemed to dwindle, but not disappear. He seemed to be mumbling to himself, but that could simply have been his background thoughts.<p>

She looked over at Mark as he hit the indicator to change lanes. "Dad?"

"Yes?"

"You know the mayor fairly well, right?"

He smiled slightly. "Met him a time or two. So you could say that, yeah."

"Does he have a niece by the name of Dinah?"

He blinked. "That's kind of out of the blue. But yes … I think he might, actually. His wife's sister's girl."

"Huh," she replied. "So, how old would she be?"

He frowned. "Twelve or thirteen, I think. Why?"

"Oh, no reason," she deflected. "Someone was talking, and I got curious."

"Okay," he replied, and turned his attention back to the road.

_He has a niece called Dinah. Okay, that still doesn't prove anything._

There was no response. _Hey! You still there?_

_**Nope. In Puerto Rico for the holidays. Leave a message after the beep. Beep.**_

_Stop being childish. Okay, so the mayor has a niece of the right age. Still doesn't prove anything._

_**Not if you don't want it to, no.**_

_What's that supposed to mean?_

A sigh. _**Amy. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just … stressed. Very stressed. And so are you. So right now, our chances of reaching any sort of amicable agreement are minimal.**_

_I'm not stressed. I feel fine._

… **_says the girl to the voice in her head._**

His mental tone was so dry, so deadpan, that she giggled mentally. _Okay, point taken. I'm feeling a bit stressed myself._

**_It's what Tattletale said to you, isn't it?_**

_How did you know about that?_

He snorted. _**If I had a dollar for every time … okay, screw it. She was going to tell you exactly who your father was. And it would have messed with you head plenty. But I have the fix.**_

_What?_

**_I'll tell you, right here, right now. Vicky doesn't need to know. Mark and Carol know, of course. But once you know, you can start coming to terms with it. And you don't need to be scared of Tattletale telling everyone._**

She felt a surge of apprehension. _I – I'm not sure I want to know._

**_Remember what I told you earlier? We do not grow up to be our parents?_**

_Yeah … but Vicky's kinda like Carol._

**_And not in the least like Mark. So what if you're like your real mom, and not your dad at all?_**

_I … maybe?_

**_I can guarantee you're not like your dad. I know this for an absolute fact. He was a murderer who kept his minions in absolute fear of him. You have respect for life and the well-being of others._** He paused. **_Amy, I like you, and I want to help you through this._**

_**Like** me? You don't even **know** me!_

She felt him smile. _**That's where you're wrong. I know more about you than you know about yourself.**_

_Such as?_

**_Your real name. The name your mother gave you._**

_Not my father?_

**_No. She was raising you, but she had cancer, so she passed you on to your father before she died._**

_I … I didn't know._

**_When the Brockton Bay Brigade took on your father, he had them beat, but for the fact that he was hiding you in a closet. They saw the way he was trying to lead the fight away from you, so they went to attack the closet. He took the hit, to save you. He was wounded, couldn't fight any more, so he asked them to take care of you. If you'd gone into the foster system, someone would have found out about who you really were. He had enemies. It would not have gone well for you._**

_So Carol and Mark took me in?_

**_Sarah and Neil would have, but they had Eric and Crystal already, and money troubles on top of that, so Sarah talked Carol into taking you._**

_But … why did Carol always dislike me?_

His tone was gentle. _**She saw your real father in you. She was wrong, of course, but that's how she saw it. When she was only about thirteen, she and Sarah were kidnapped for ransom, but the kidnappers eventually decided to kill them. That's when they triggered. But before that point, Carol had started talking to the kidnappers, started empathising with them. Stockholm Syndrome. After that, after they tried to kill her, she felt that everyone was out to betray her. So she married a man with chronic depression, because he was safe. Let herself get pregnant with Vicky, because a child of her own body was safe.**_

_And then … I came into her life._ Amy's tone was wondering.

_**Yeah. Child of a supervillain. Not her child, not from a safe parent. She saw you as the epitome of everything that was wrong with the world. But she's mistaken. You're a good person.**_

_I … I don't think so._

He snorted. _**Better than you think.**_

_No. I'm really not. I … get these feelings, sometimes._

He spoke soothingly, evenly. **_I know you do._**

She flared at him. _You don't know **anything.**_

His tone never changed. **_The kid, with the heart. From Egypt, right? You hated him, because he was going to have a life, and your life was just taken up with healing people, right?_**

Amy felt her eyes fill with tears. _How can you … how can you **know** this?_

_**Same way I know that you're a good kid. That you've got far too much pressure on you, and you're hurting. You aren't a bad person, and you don't want to **_**be_ a bad person. But the way things are going, you'll be forced into doing something bad. Because no-one can live the way you are without snapping, sooner or later._**

His voice was calm, matter of fact. Not discounting her fears, but simply discussing them. Bringing them out into the open.

_But – what can I **do?**_

She felt his smile. _**See, that's where I come in.**_

=/=

She was ushered through into a rear office, where she met with the Deputy Director. "Thank you for coming, Panacea," he told her, shaking her hand. "Here's your visitor's badge."

She hung the badge around her neck. "Want to come down, meet the guys, Dad?"

Mark shook his head. "No. I think I'll hang about and talk over old times with Phil here."

"Suit yourself." Amy shook hands with the Deputy Director once more, then let herself out. She was met by two of Brockton Bay's best-known capes.

"Armsmaster," she greeted them. "Miss Militia."

The armoured Tinker had his halberd clamped to his back, of course, and Miss Militia's current weapon of choice appeared to be a heavy machine-gun.

"Panacea," Miss Militia replied. "Thank you for coming in."

"It's the least I could do," she responded. "After all, they saved me."

They rode down in the lift. The voice in her head was mercifully silent; she needed to think about what he had said to her, after she had finally asked him for advice. Miss Militia's weapon reduced itself to a hunting rifle, slung over her shoulder, for the trip down.

Two sub-basements down, they exited into a gleaming stainless steel corridor, and walked its length to a heavy steel door. Miss Militia pressed the large button bearing the image of a domino mask; they waited until its light blinked out, then she leaned forward and let the retinal scanner look over her eye. As she did so, her weapon became a large rocket launcher.

She obviously passed muster, because the heavy interlocks on the metal doors separated, and the doors themselves opened. Armsmaster led the way in, followed by Miss Militia, with Amy bringing up the rear.

As they entered the large room, Gallant stood up. "Armsmaster," he greeted the leader of the Protectorate in Brockton Bay. "Good to see you, sir. Miss Militia, always a pleasure."

"Ever the gentleman," responded Miss Militia graciously. Indicating Amy, she went on. "We brought a guest. She was kind enough to volunteer to come here and patch you guys up."

_**Volunteer, hah.**_

_Shush, these are my friends. I would have volunteered if you hadn't been in my head, confusing me._

Miss Militia smiled behind her scarf. "Can't send you home with horrible injuries and hundreds of bug bites, can we? That would give away the show."

He sighed. _**To be fair, I think you're right. But the fact remains that **_**they**_** called on **_**you**_**.**_

As Miss Militia's weapon changed shape again, from rocket launcher to machine gun to sniper rifle to harpoon gun, Amy stepped forward.

"I wanted to thank you guys for coming to my rescue," she told them. "And for letting Glory Girl come with you."

Inside her head, he chuckled. _**See the look on Gallant's face, right there? Director Piggot ripped him a brand new one for asking her to come along.**_

_But that's not fair! She would have come along anyway!_

**_So tell me you're surprised._**

_Well, they did bring her along, and I'm glad._

**_Why? Because she got hurt, and the Undersiders got away anyway?_**

_No. Because we **tried** to do the right thing._ She couldn't understand why he could not see that.

Gallant had a concerned look on his face. "You two are okay?"

The voice in her head was very dry. _**Well, apart from hearing voices …**_

Amy had to stifle a giggle. _Shush!_

She shook her head. "Tattletale found a way around my sister's invincibility. Glory Girl was bitten pretty badly, which is why I didn't come sooner. I think it hits you harder, psychologically, when you're pretty much invincible but you get hurt anyways. But we're okay now. She's healed but sulking. I- I'm alright. Bump on my head, but I'm okay."

_**You want to know how Tattletale got her?**_

Distracted, she blinked. _Uh, how?_

"Good," Gallant replied, and he sounded like he meant it.

**_Her field goes down for a brief moment after she takes a big hit. Tattletale shot her, and while her field was down, the bugs swarmed her. She's too overconfident. This is actually probably a good thing._**

_I was bluffing when I told the bug girl that I'd give her cancer or stuff, but now I think I could really do it. She could have killed my sister._

His voice was firm. _**Don't go there. Do **_**not**_** go there. You do **_**not**_** know all the details.**_

_I don't **need** to know -_

**_Just like Carol Dallon didn't need to know all the details to know that you're a danger to society?_**

His comment cut her off at the knees, quite likely as it was intended to do.

_I, uh -_

* * *

><p>Armsmaster's voice got her attention. He was standing by a couple of whiteboards which had, she saw, the names of the Undersiders atop columns. Inside the columns were facts about each of the teen villains.<p>

"I like this," the armoured hero commented. "But this one… nearly empty." Amy saw that he was tapping the column set up for Tattletale.

Gallant shrugged. "None of us ran into her, and the hostages didn't have anything to say about her."

Miss Militia looked at Amy. "Panacea may be able to help there."

She suddenly found herself the centre of attention. Her mouth went dry. "I- A lot happened."

"Any detail helps," Miss Militia encouraged her.

_**Right. Okay. Want to stand out now, or fade into the background?**_

_I … I want to help. But Tattletale …_

_**Can't hurt you. And, to be honest, she won't hurt you. Especially if you reach out to her and help her.**_

_I … we're really going to do that?_

_**Yes. We are. If we're going to get Dinah back, then we need the Undersiders on side. And Tattletale is a natural for that.**_

_Why?_

_**Tell you later. But right now, you can look good in front of everyone. If you want.**_

Amy took a deep breath. _Okay. I can do this. Hit me._

**_I can just take over and talk for you, if you want._**

… _no, just tell me what to say._

**_That's my girl._** She could _feel_ his approval. It was amazing how good it made her feel.

_**Okay, repeat after me …**_

* * *

><p>"Before we get into this," she began, "there's something else I was wondering about. Something odd about the bank robbery."<p>

Armsmaster, who had turned back to the whiteboards, returned his gaze to her. Even through the opaque visor, she could tell he was staring.

"What would that be?" asked Miss Militia.

"The timing," Amy informed her. "Middle of the day, busy period. Right when all the Wards were able to slip away and attend." She paused. "Was Shadow Stalker unable to attend, or was she told to stay away?"

Aegis raised a hand. "I, uh, told her to stay away," he rasped. There was something wrong with his chest, Amy saw.

"Do you need healing?" she asked, automatically.

"I'll be fine for the moment," he managed. "Heal the others first."

She nodded. "Okay. Well, given that you all got there well in time to intercept them, that was either a badly-planned heist – and the Undersiders are not known for that – or it was _planned."_

**_Nicely done, _**the voice in her head congratulated her. **_You've got them on the hook. Three … two … one …_**

Armsmaster spoke up, his voice hard. "Planned? For what reason?"

Amy shrugged. **"**Maybe it was a distraction, designed to draw as many capes away from somewhere else as possible." She paused. "Mom and Dad were at a dinner at their country club, and I think a few other capes were there as well. So they were out of the way too."

Miss Militia's voice was thoughtful. "Do we have information on any other crimes around town, at about that time?"

Kid Win was already sitting down at the computer console. "We have a jewellery store robbery. A pileup on the interstate, that apparently was caused by a cape battle. And … a missing kid."

Amy's head came around. "A missing child? Details?"

The teenage Tinker frowned under his visor. "Um … let's see … wandered away from school. Reported seen talking to some strange men. It wouldn't even show up, except that apparently she's related to the mayor."

"Rich parents?" asked Gallant.

Kid Win shook his head. "Uh, nope. Upper middle, is all."

"What's her name?" asked Amy tensely.

"No first name, just an initial. Alcott. D. Alcott."

_D. Alcott. Dinah Alcott. The mayor's niece. She's been kidnapped._

"Does that seem significant to you, Panacea?" asked Armsmaster.

Amy opened her mouth to reply, then found herself briefly unable to speak.

_**He has a lie detector in his helmet. Choose your words carefully.**_

Able to speak again, she hesitated. "I, uh, think there might be something important about the girl," she hedged. "Something we're not seeing."

"I'll go back over the details," Armsmaster noted. "Good catch there, Panacea."

She nodded, aware of cold sweat trickling down her back. "Thanks. Now, about Tattletale."

_What can you tell me about her?_

_**Well, I won't be telling you her secret identity, of course. That's for her to tell you. But for now, this shouldn't set off too many butterflies.**_

Picking up the marker pen, Amy began writing in a firm hand.

=/=

"Feeling better?" Amy asked, as Clockblocker felt his face.

"Oh god yes," he muttered. "I am going to have nightmares about spiders. Lots and lots of spiders."

"The bug girl, uh, Skitter?" asked Amy sympathetically.

He nodded. "She put bugs in behind my _eyeballs._ Do you have any idea what that _feels_ like?"

She shook her head. "I can't imagine."

"The idea Aegis and I had, to swap costumes? Never again. Never, ever again. I intend to be bug-proof for the rest of my natural life."

She chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder. "Take care."

_Well, that should be it._

_**Nope, here comes Gallant. I think he wants a word.**_

_What about?_

_**Us, I imagine.**_

_Oh, shit -_

_**Relax. I got this. Can I take over? I think I know the steps to this dance.**_

She took a deep breath. _O … okay._

**_Cool nanas._** She felt his influence spread through her body. Her heart rate slowed down.

"Panacea," the teenage cape greeted her.

"Gallant," she heard herself say. "How are your ribs? You seem to be holding yourself a little stiffly."

Gallant seemed to be slightly taken aback. "Uh, yeah. One of Hellhound's dogs rammed me, and I think I might have bruised or broken ribs. Can you check for me?"

Amy's head nodded. "Sure. Want to use your room for privacy?"

"Yeah," Gallant told her. "Sure." He led her toward his alcove.

"That's right," Clockblocker called out. "Give your sister's boyfriend special treatment. He get a lollipop for being a brave patient afterward too?"

Amy rolled her eyes, even as Gallant chuckled. "Don't mind him," he advised her.

"I don't," she heard herself say. "He's harmless."

* * *

><p>They entered the alcove, and Gallant turned to face her. "Okay," he began. "What's going on with you?"<p>

Amy wanted to panic, but her heart rate never shifted.

"I'm sorry," her voice sounded calm in her ears, "but you're going to be have to be more specific."

"I see emotions," Gallant told her. "All the time. All around everyone. And ever since you got here, your emotions have been all over the place. Jumping back and forth like a lightning storm. Calm one moment, jittery the next. And just now, just as I came up to you, you went from on edge to … calm. Unworried. Why is that?"

Amy felt herself reach out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Gallant," her voice sounded softly. "Dean. I'm under a lot of stress at the moment, as you can imagine. I'm actually considering taking a break, stepping away from healing, just to recharge my batteries. But you can imagine the hell that I'll catch from all sides if and when I make that announcement, so I'm holding off. Trying to figure out when to say it. Add to that the bank robbery, me getting a hit on the head, and Vicky getting hurt trying to protect me. My thoughts are going a million miles a minute, so if my emotions follow them, I wouldn't be surprised if I look like one of those electric plasma ball globes right now."

Gallant's eyes opened wide. No wider than Amy's would have, if she had been able to do so.

_Taking a break from healing? I **can't!**_

_**It's killing you, kiddo. Killing you inside. And anyway, I didn't say you were **_**doing_ it, just that you were _considering_ it. Which you should._**

"Wow," he muttered. "Damn. I … look, I'm sorry."

Amy felt herself frown. "Why?"

He grimaced. "I know how you feel about me. I can't help but pick up your emotions when you're looking at me and Vicky. So … maybe I shouldn't have gotten us in here together, alone. Raised your hopes."

_What the hell is he talking about?_

_**He's gotten the targets mixed up. He thought the jealousy was aimed at Vicky, and the attraction at him.**_

_Oh god … he thought I was attracted to **him**?_

_**I suspect it's not an uncommon phenomenon.**_

Amy felt herself leaning forward, and she kissed Gallant lightly on the cheek.

Her voice was soft. "It's okay. It was just a bit of a crush, is all. I'm over it now. Thank you for being so understanding."

He smiled. "I have to tell you, Amy, you're one in a million."

She shrugged lightly. "Just make Vicky happy, okay?"

"Goes without saying." He opened the door and they rejoined the main group.

=/=

In the car, on the way back to the house, Amy fumed silently in her seat.

_**You seem a little upset.**_

_You had no right._

_**I have every right to take steps to improve your health. I'm in this body too. And I know about your problems.**_

_You should have at least consulted me!_

_**Like everyone else who's made life decisions for you has consulted you. At least I've got your best interests at heart.**_

_You're just like everyone else, making decisions over my head._

He was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, less carefree.

_**You're right. You're absolutely right. I'm sorry.**_

She was taken aback. _I am? You are?_

**_Yes. Just because I'm doing the right thing doesn't mean I can't talk to you about it first. I apologise, Amy. I won't do that again._**

_I … I'm sorry, too. For snapping at you._

He chuckled. _**That's okay. Snap away.**_

_And I'm ready._

**_Ready?_**

_For you to tell me who my real father is. What my real name is._

She felt him smile. _**Well, your real name is Amelia Claire Lavere. And your father is the supervillain known as Marquis.**_

_Marquis._

**_Yup._**

She considered that. A day ago, she would have been horrified. If it had come out in the bank, she would have been devastated. But now, with the information she had been given, with time to think about it, it merely came as a mild surprise.

_And my name is Amelia Claire Lavere._

_**That's your name.**_

_Thank you._

_**You're welcome.**_

She leaned back in the car seat, letting her eyes slide almost closed. Mark Dallon glanced across at her.

"You're looking happy, Amy girl."

She smiled at him. "I suppose I am, Dad. I suppose I am."

_I still have troubles. But at least I know what they are._

* * *

><p>End of Part Two<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**I, Panacea**

* * *

><p>Part Three: Taking the Bull by the Horns<p>

* * *

><p>As the car rolled down her street, Amy felt the presence within her mind stir a little. When he 'spoke', his voice was calm, measured. <em><strong>So what's on your mind?<strong>_

She was a little surprised. _Can't you hear my every thought? You **are** in my head, after all._

The mental impression of a head-shake. _**Not if it's not at the front of your mind. You're not hearing everything I'm thinking, you know.**_

_Oh._ It was something - no pun intended - to think about. _I've been thinking about what you've told me._

_**Oh. Well, that's good. Do you have any questions?**_

_How serious are you that I should contact the Undersiders?_

_**Utterly. You can help them, and I think they can help you.**_

The car pulled into the driveway, and Mark Dallon set the park brake and turned off the engine. Then he turned and looked at her. "You've been really quiet, Amy girl," he observed. "Something on your mind?"

Jarred out of the silent conversation, Amy blinked. "I, uh, a lot of things to think about after that bank robbery, Dad," she temporised. "Just working stuff out for myself."

He nodded. "Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, you know I'm always here."

She smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

"How's your head?"

Gingerly, she touched the lump; it was still quite sore. "I'll live."

Smiling, he clasped her shoulder for a moment. "That's good." He opened his door and got out; after a moment, she followed suit.

Entering the house, she made her way to her room and closed the door firmly, before sitting on the bed.

_Okay, _she formulated the thought, _you say that the Undersiders can help me. How would they do that? And more importantly, why? I nearly helped capture two of them._

He was silent for a moment. _**Can we just go with 'can help you' for the time being? I don't think your trust level for them is very high at the moment, so anything I told you would be coloured through that perspective.**_

She paused, thinking about that. He was right, of course. The Undersiders were _villains._ They had _robbed _a _bank,_ right in front of her. And that wasn't even counting what the girl called Skitter had done to her and Vicky. _Of course I don't trust them. Why should I?_

_**I can't give you a reason that you can depend on, right now, **_he replied. _**All I can do is ask you to keep an open mind.**_

_What if I said I don't trust you, either?_

A sigh. _**Then we're doomed.**_

She was startled. _What?_

His voice was sombre. _**If you can't trust me, if you won't follow my advice, then we're going to follow the same path of miscommunication and mistrust. Vicky will end up under care in an asylum, and you'll have yourself voluntarily admitted to the Birdcage. Thousands, tens of thousands, of people will likely die.**_

She was shaken by the sadness, the sincerity in his tone. _What? That's not possible. What happens to Vicky?_

**_You do._**

_No. I don't believe you. You're lying._

_**Not sure that I can, not about important things. Not to you.**_

_Important things? You mean, you've lied to me about unimportant things?_

A tinge of something like embarrassment. _**My name. 'Michael Allen' isn't my real name. But I used it for so long, the last time I was here, that I kind of used it by reflex this time.**_

She wondered briefly what he meant by 'the last time I was here', but decided to shelve the matter for another time. _So what's your real name?_

He told her.

_Really? But that's -_

_**Yeah. Look, it's not important. Call me whatever you like. We need to sort out what's going to happen right now. I can't force you to trust me, and I can't prove something that's not gonna happen for months. But we need to work together on this.**_

Her tone was bitter. _Can't you just force me to do it? Control my body so I go where you think I should go, do what you say I need to do? It's not like I'll have any real say in the matter, after all._

_**No.**_

She frowned, puzzled. _What? But before, you -_

His tone was patient. _**I could, easily. But I won't. I choose not to. If we're going to work together on this, it's not going to be a master-slave situation. Equal partners. And I want you to be able to **_**know**_** that I won't abuse that control.**_

_Oh._ She considered his words for a minute. _Okay._ Standing up from the bed, she went to the closet. _Can I change back to street clothes now, or are you going to freak out again?_

A sigh. _**Right. Thanks for the warning.**_

As she opened the closet and pulled clothing out, she felt him retreat a little. His voice started up, again, reciting another poem, with which she was also unfamiliar.

_**On the outer Barcoo, where churches are few, and men of religion are scanty ...**_

* * *

><p>She listened to the recital curiously as she changed, a smile crossing her face at some of the humorous verses. When she had finished, she raised her mental 'voice' slightly. <em>Done.<em>

_**Oh, good.**_ He stopped reciting.

_Now I'm going to talk to Mom and Dad. Mark and Carol._

_**Wait, what? What about?**_

_You'll see._

His tone was concerned. _**It's not about me, is it? Because I really don't think this is a great time -**_

She cut him off. _It's not about you. Trust me._

After a long moment, he replied. _**Okay, I trust you.**_

She relaxed just a little at that. The last thing she needed was for him to be grabbing control at an inopportune moment.

Leaving her room, she headed down the corridor to the head of the stairs. For a moment, she debated getting Vicky out of her room. _She deserves to know this, too._

_**Know what?**_

_You'll see. _In the end, she decided to leave her sister in peace. _There's always later._

* * *

><p>Heading down the stairs, she saw her father in the living room, reading the paper, or at least looking at it. "Dad?" she asked. "Where's Mom?"<p>

"I'm in the kitchen," Carol Dallon called out, before Mark could answer. "What do you need, Amy?"

Amy got to the bottom of the stairs and went into the kitchen. "I need to talk to the both of you, please?"

Carol, apron-clad and with a smudge of flour on her nose, opened the oven and peered in. Cooking smells wafted over Amy. "That smells nice," she told her mother. "What are you making?"

"A batch of cookies, to cheer your sister up," Carol informed her. "Can it wait?"

"Not really, but it shouldn't take long," Amy informed her. _If I wait too long, I won't be able to go through with it._

_**With what?**_

_You'll see._

_**Hm. Okay.**_ He fell silent again.

Carol huffed a sigh of impatience. "Well, okay. What's it about?"

"I need to talk to _both _of you," Amy stressed. "Dad, too."

For a moment, she thought Carol was going to refuse, but she sighed again and twisted a clockwork egg-shaped timer to three minutes, and put it on the bench. "I can't leave these go for too long," she pointed out, then took off the apron.

_Yeah, _Amy thought dryly. _And I notice you didn't make any to cheer **me** up._

The voice inside her head declined to comment, in a very pointed manner.

When they came out into the living room, Mark was still looking at the paper; as far as Amy could tell, he had not even turned the page.

"Mark," Carol began, "Amy's got something she needs to talk to us about."

Mark looked up mildly and folded the paper. "Okay, Amy girl," he invited. "What's up?"

Amy moved to where she could look both her foster parents in the face. "I want to know my father's name."

There was a long, long silence. Amy fancied she could hear dust motes touching down on the table.

_**Well, holy shit. I am impressed.**_

She was irrationally pleased. _Didn't expect that, did you?_

**_No. No, I did not._**

_Was it the wrong thing to say?_

**_On balance, I don't think so. But this is gonna be interesting._**

* * *

><p>Carol found her voice first. "Why do you ask that, Amy?"<p>

Amy frowned. "Isn't it obvious? I want to _know."_

**_You want to know if they'll actually come clean, after hiding it all this time._**

_Well, duh. Now shut up, I don't want to be distracted._

Mark glanced at Carol. "Would it be such a bad thing to tell her?" he asked. "After all, she _is_ sixteen. Nearly an adult."

Carol shook her head convulsively. "No." She looked Amy directly in the eye. "It's better that you do not know, Amy. Better that the world doesn't know."

"Why?" challenged Amy. "Because he's a supervillain? Because he's in the Birdcage? What possible reason could there be for keeping that from me?"

Carol went several shades whiter, until her face almost matched the dab of flour on her nose. "Who told you?" she whispered. "How did you know?"

Amy shook her head. "It doesn't matter. It really, really doesn't. What I want to know is, why won't _you_ tell me?"

Mark opened his mouth. "Amy girl -" He stopped when Carol made a sharp gesture.

"Amy." Carol's voice was low and controlled. "Yes, your father is a supervillain. We made the decision years ago not to tell you, when you were showing signs of forgetting who he actually was, so that you could live a _normal_ life, without that burden hanging over you. So that you wouldn't have the doubt in your mind, am I like him?"

Amy shook her head again. "No, Carol," she snapped. Carol's lips tightened, at Amy's tone. "You did it so that _you _wouldn't have to worry about me turning out like him." She paused, deliberately. "Like Marquis." She looked from Carol to Mark and back again. "Only you never forgot it, did you? You never stopped wondering if I was going to turn out like him _anyway._ So you treated me like I was going to."

"Amy girl." That was Mark. "I didn't … we didn't ..."

Amy gave him a sad smile. "No, you didn't. But you're only half the partnership here." She turned back toward Carol. "You never, ever said that you loved me. You never _hugged_ me. You've always pushed me to do better, to work harder, to try to please you, so that I would earn the same praise that Vicky always earned just by being Vicky."

Carol found her voice. "I never made you -"

"No, you didn't," Amy overrode her. "I _loved_ you. Don't you understand? You were my mother figure. I wanted you to love me back, to approve of me, to hold me. I always thought that if I did a bit better, did exactly what I was told every single day, you might give me just a little of what Vicky got _every single day of her life."_

The egg timer went off in the kitchen. Everyone jumped.

Amy took a deep breath. "Well, time's up," she announced bitterly. "I'm going out."

Mark stumbled to his feet. "Wait, Amy girl," he told her. "I'll drive you -"

She shook her head. "Sorry. This is a 'me time' thing. I'll bus it." Again, she gave him a sad smile. "Thanks for the talk."

Grabbing her jacket, she turned and headed for the door. It banged shut behind her.

* * *

><p>Amy sat at the bus stop, waiting for the next bus to come.<p>

_**Well, holy shit.**_

_You said that before._

_**That was surprise. This time it was deep admiration.**_

_What – really? I thought that went terribly._

There was a chuckle. _**There was no real way for that to go well, kiddo. But you didn't shout or scream, you got your message across, and you left before they could think up an appropriate rebuttal.**_

_I was terrified. I think I nearly threw up._

_**Well, you didn't. So you did good.**_

_Thanks. I think. Have I just alienated them?_

_**Hmm, let me think. Have you just alienated the two people who spent the last ten years of your life hiding an important fact from you? Possibly. Did they deserve what you just said to them? Almost definitely. Will they treat you any differently? Well, it would be hard for them to treat you **_**worse.**

She blinked at that. _I … I guess you're right._

_**How do you feel, now that you've gotten that off your chest?**_

_Weird. I mean, I'm terrified of what's going to happen when I go home -_

_**Eh. Walk in, pretend everything's normal. You'd be amazed how often that works.**_

_And if they **don't** pretend everything's normal?_

There was amusement in his tone. _**I don't think they'll be wanting to raise that particular topic again in a hurry, will they?**_

She thought about it. _No, I don't suppose so. _She paused. _So, where are we going?_

There was a pause. _**Uh, I don't know. You're driving, remember?**_

_You said that I needed to reach out to the Undersiders. I'm reaching out._

_**What, really?**_

_Yes. Really. Unless you were lying to me._

_**No, no, god no. I'm just a little surprised at your go-getter attitude all of a sudden. And pleased. Very pleased.**_

She hid a smile. _I'm a bit surprised, too. It's amazing what a little revelation about one's origins will do. So, which bus?_

**_Um, crap, I never actually memorised the bus schedule. _**She felt him take control of her head, and her eyes scanned the laminated sheet posted up on the bus stop wall. Unbidden, her finger rose to point. **_I think that one there will get us to the north ferry terminal, right?_**

_You do know that the ferry's been shut down for the last sixteen years or so, right?_

_**I know that. We're walking from there. It's about twenty minutes or so. Maybe half an hour.**_

_That's not a good part of town._

_**So we'll walk fast.**_

_I'm beginning to think this was a bad idea._

_**We can go back, if you want.**_

She set her jaw. _No. We go on._

A mental impression of a smile. **_That's my girl._**

* * *

><p>Lisa raised her head. "Someone's -"<p>

Rachel's dogs burst into furious barking. Claws scrabbled on hardwood flooring as they bounded to their feet and ran toward the spiral staircase. It wasn't something they could negotiate in a hurry, but they kept barking as they descended the stairs.

"- out at the front," she concluded.

Taylor turned her head slightly. "Yeah. Not an adult. A teenager, I think." She paused. "They're alone. No-one within fifty yards. A hundred."

"Banging on the door with a rock," Lisa added. "She really wants to get in."

"'She'?" asked Brian. "Really?"

"And she's right-handed, about five-four, and … sixteen years old," Lisa retorted with an impudent grin, one that curled the corners of her mouth up.

Brian came to his feet; Lisa followed. Alec looked up as Brian put the game controller down. "Oh, man," he complained. "We just got to the end of level boss, too!"

"Do we let her in?" asked Lisa. "She knows we're here."

Brian's lips tightened. "Rachel, come on," he snapped. "Let's get downstairs and see what this girl wants."

"Should we mask up?" asked Taylor, a little nervously. "Does this sort of thing happen much?"

Lisa snorted. "Hardly ever." She nodded to Taylor. "Go ahead, mask up." She plucked the domino mask from where it was resting on the chair arm and put it on her face. "Alec, you too."

"Aw, man," complained Alec again, but he grabbed his mask and put it on. As he was still dressed in the majority of his costume, it fitted with the rest of his outfit. Taylor, however, had changed out of her costume into street clothes, so her Skitter mask just made her look extra creepy.

"They'll be bringing her upstairs so we can find out what the hell's going on," Lisa confided as the sound of barking dropped away dramatically. Moments later, Grue's darkness billowed up the stairs, filling the room.

When it cleared, the newcomer was standing in the middle of the living area, held in a light arm lock by Brian. The hood of her jacket had been pulled up over her head, and down so that she couldn't see.

Taylor stared; she looked awfully familiar -

"Holy shit," blurted Tattletale. "That's fucking _Panacea."_

* * *

><p>End of Part Three<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**I, Panacea**

* * *

><p>Part 4: Villainous Interactions<p>

* * *

><p>Amy banged on the metal door with a rock she had found.<p>

_I feel silly. Are you sure there's someone home?_

_**I'm certain of it. Hear those dogs?**_

_What if they've gone out and left the dogs in here?_

_**Nope, Bitch wouldn't do that. They're more dear to her than kids.**_

The barking was closer now, just inside the door that she was banging on.

_**You might want to drop the rock now.**_

_Why?_

_**So you don't look like a threat.**_

_Oh._

She dropped the rock, just as the door was yanked open and three dogs leaped out. They circled around her, barking madly, as a tall black teenager and a shorter, stockier auburn-haired girl - Grue and Hellhound, she guessed – each grabbed her by an arm. Before she could protest, she was hauled into the warehouse and the door slammed behind her.

Grue pushed her against the wall, not hard, and frisked her, quickly and efficiently. He came away with her purse and her phone, but not much else. "What are you doing here?" he asked, holding her arm behind her back. "Why were you trying to break in?"

She was vividly aware of the dogs; no longer barking, they were eyeing her and growling ferociously. Hellhound stood off, watching her with a grim set to her jaw. Hostility fairly radiated from the female villain.

"Not trying to break in," Amy managed, turning her head to look at him out of the corner of her eye. "Wanted to talk to you guys. To the Undersiders."

"The fuck?" growled the girl, her head coming up. The dogs took a step forward, their growls intensifying in volume.

Amy felt the tall black guy's grip tighten on her wrist. "Rachel," he snapped. "Back off."

Hellhound - Rachel - stood for a long moment, a challenging look in her eye. Then, apparently satisfied that she'd proven that she did not just blindly follow orders, she stepped back and clicked her tongue. The dogs stepped back with her.

"You want to talk to us?" asked Grue. "We can do that."

_I didn't like the way he said that._

He pulled the hood of her jacket up and over her head, and then down, so that she couldn't see anything except her feet. And then even they disappeared. She couldn't see anything at all. Even her hearing was muffled, almost to the point that she thought she'd gone deaf.

The presence in her head was calm, reassuring. _**You weren't meant to. He's just trying to intimidate you. Like right now, his darkness? Scare tactic. Keep you off balance.**_

_Well, he's succeeding._ But she wasn't as frightened as she might have been.

_**You're doing well. Just remember what we talked about. And Skitter isn't about to see an innocent get hurt. Watch your step. Spiral staircase coming up.**_

_Trusting an awful lot in the goodwill of someone that Vicky threatened to send to the Birdcage. That I threatened to do awful things to with my powers._

_**Tempers were high,**_ he assured her. _**Hurting someone in cold blood, that's something that Regent might do. Rachel's never really calm either. But Grue and Tattetale and Skitter won't let that happen.**_

She felt her left hand being guided on to a railing, one that curved up and around to the right. Grue – she presumed it was Grue – still held her right arm behind her back. Forewarned, she felt for the first step, while simultaneously being prodded, guided and supported by Grue.

The climb seemed interminable. Ascending a spiral staircase is by no means an intuitive process, given that the part of the brain inherited from one's monkey ancestors is used to climbing in _straight_ lines. Doing so in the dark puts an even greater strain on the instinctive reactions. _How much farther?_

She could hear him mumbling in the back of her head. _**Twelve more steps. Thirty-three in all.**_

_How can you know that?_

_**Been here before. Counted 'em.**_

_But how -_

_**Long story. Maybe after we finish negotiating with the nice supervillains?**_

_Okay._ She shut up and concentrated on climbing steps. Step, turn, slide hand on rail, step, turn ...

_**Top step.**_

_Okay, thanks. _She put her foot flat to what felt like a wooden floor to her heightened senses, and was walked forward a little way.

And then the darkness faded. She could only see a little way in front of her, due to her hood still being pulled down over her face. But it didn't stop her from hearing Tattletale's voice.

"Holy shit. That's fucking _Panacea."_

* * *

><p>Amy reached up and pushed her hood back, looking around at the supervillains surrounding her. Regent, she recognised immediately, along with Hellhound, or Rachel, as Grue had called her. The girl with the dark blonde hair, which she was running her fingers through to shake out of a braid, wore street clothes, but her domino mask told Amy that she was looking at Tattletale. The other girl looked ordinary from the neck down, if a bit skinny. From the neck up, she was Skitter; already, bugs were gathering in a nimbus around her. More were swarming into the area with every second that passed.<p>

She stood in a loft area above the warehouse. The floor underfoot was wooden, with rugs here and there. High windows, in need of cleaning, gave light, but did not afford a view from Amy's angle. Two couches, a big-screen TV on a stand, and a gaming console under the TV seemed to make up the majority of the furnishings in this room. A corridor led out of the area, but she had no idea what was in that direction.

_**Kitchen, bathroom, their bedrooms. Skitter has yet to move in.**_

She was almost startled by his comment. _Oh, uh, thanks._

_**You might want to say something.**_

But she didn't get the chance; Skitter spoke first.

"Everyone, be careful of her," the skinny girl warned them. "She can do more than just heal people. Grue, don't let her touch your skin."

"Got it," grunted the tall guy behind her, but before he could put word into action, Amy felt her limbs being taken over. She rammed her elbow into what felt like an iron-hard gut – _**God, does he eat barbells for breakfast or something?**_ - raked her heel down his shin, and turned and twisted at the same moment. Caught off guard, he let go; Amy felt herself step back until her back was against the wall. Rubbing her wrist, she eyed each of the Undersiders.

_What are you doing?_

_**Showing them that you're not a pushover.**_ Control was returned to her. _**They're wary of you now. Use that.**_

"Okay," she stated clearly. "Now that I have your attention, please listen carefully."

_**Check out Tattletale. She's just picked something up.**_

And it was true. The blonde was staring, eyes widening. "Guys ..." she began. "There's something off here. I think she might be Mastered."

"Hey, that's _my_ thing," objected Regent. He waved in Amy's direction, and her knees began to buckle.

And then they didn't. Amy could feel the control inside her body overriding what Regent was trying to do.

"What the fuck?" he muttered.

"A _strong_ Master," Tattletale clarified. She stepped forward until she was a little over arm's length from Amy. "Okay, you brought Panacea here. What's your plan? What are you doing this for?"

"Tell Jean-Paul to quit it, and we can talk about it," Amy heard herself say. She heard an indrawn breath from Grue and Regent; Hellhound didn't react, and she couldn't see Skitter's face. Tattletale's eyes widened just a bit.

Amy felt herself start to panic just a little. _What are you **doing**? We can't antagonise them!_

His voice was terse. _**We have to present a strong front, or they won't take us seriously. Okay, back to you.**_

Control returned to her; she took a deep breath.

"As I was saying," she repeated, "I need you to listen carefully."

Tattletale nodded. "Listening." Her expression was intent.

Amy concentrated on what she had talked to Michael about. What he had told her about the Undersiders. What he had told her to say.

"You've got problems, and you don't even know it," she began. "I'm here to help you fix them. To get past them."

Grue had picked up his motorcycle helmet and was fitting it over his head. "What problems?" he asked, his voice hollow.

Amy held up her hand, ticked off points on her fingers. "Your boss does not have your best interests at heart. He wants to enslave Tattletale and, when Skitter becomes inconvenient, he'll kill her off if he can. He lied to you about the bank robbery; there was a reason for it, and that reason was so that his men could have the opportunity to kidnap a twelve year old girl. Also, I know his real name, and I know exactly what powers he has."

_**Okay, give it time to sink in now.**_

"You could be lying," Grue stated flatly. "Starting with basic information, cold reading us, trying to instil doubt in our minds. Playing with our heads."

"I _could_," Amy retorted. "But that's not me. That's what Tattletale does." She looked directly at him. "I know about you, how you triggered, about your sister. How you want custody of her."

He took a step forward. "If you're threatening … "

Amy shook her head. "Not threatening. Just letting you know that I know." She looked from one to another, repeating what Michael was telling her. "I know stuff about each of you. Your names. How you triggered. Names of people who are or were important to you, once upon a time."

"Wait a minute," interrupted Skitter. "Kidnapped a twelve year old girl?"

_**Bingo.**_

Amy nodded in her direction. "Dinah Alcott. The mayor's niece. She's a powerful precog. He's getting her drugged up, so that she'll do whatever he says. Right. Now."

It was hard to read Skitter's body language, given that her face was hidden, but she sounded shaken when she spoke next. "Tattletale, is that true? What she's saying?"

Tattletale hesitated for the longest moment. "I … don't know. I can't get a read on her. The Master keeps taking over, imposing his body language."

_**Bullshit.**_

"Bullshit!" snapped Amy. "Also, more. Closer to home. The ABB is still looking to take you down."

"But Lung's in custody," objected Regent.

"Probably _why_ they're so eager to get you out of the way," Amy retorted. "Bakuda's hired Uber and L33t to help her do the job."

Grue shook his helmeted head. "You've got to be kidding me. _Those_ losers?"

"Plus a stack of ABB. Including conscripts."

Skitter sounded honestly puzzled. "How do you conscript a gang member and expect them to hang around?"

"Easy." Amy tapped the side of her neck. "Put a bomb in here, keyed to Bakuda's remote detonation control system. You act out, she sends the signal, you suffer the effect of whatever she put in you."

Tattletale sat on a couch, rubbing her temples. "Fuck," she muttered. "Fuck. Every time I try to work you out, you throw another curve ball. Fuck, my head's killing me."

"Detonation system?" asked Grue practically.

"Heads up display in the goggles. Toe rings on her right foot," Amy repeated Michael's words. "Big toe and next toe. She crosses them, the rings come into contact, sends out the signal to the bomb she's chosen."

Tattletale threw herself back on the couch. "Toe rings," she groaned. "Fuck, why didn't _I_ pick that up?"

"Because you need to spend at least a little time interacting with someone to get information like that," Amy pointed out. She was starting to feel a little more confident; with Michael feeding her the information, she was holding her own here.

"So we stay out of their way, or we kick their asses," Regent proposed from his seat.

"Unless they ambush you," Amy responded. "Rachel, you're thinking of taking the dogs for a walk sometime, right?"

Hellhound glared at her. "What's it to you?"

"Because they'll be waiting on you," Amy explained patiently. "They capture you, force you to give up the location of the money, _move_ the money," she looked at the rest of the group, "and when _you_ guys come looking for it, that's when they hit you."

"You're talking like this has already happened," Tattletale remarked. "Which really has me worried. Because I don't know _any_ Master/Thinkers that are powerful precogs."

"No," Amy told her directly, quoting Michael's words. "And you still don't."

Tattletale clutched her forehead. "Argh! Ow!"

Amy felt a little concerned. _Is she all right?_

_**Thinker equivalent of an ice-cream headache. She was following a line of inquiry and she ran head-first into 'nope'.**_ There was a measure of grim amusement in his voice. _**She loves to troll people with what she knows. Turnabout is fair play.**_

_I have to admit, with what she nearly did to me and Vicky …_

Grue cleared his throat. "Okay, presuming we even believe you, what do you get out of this? So far you've come here and given us unsupported allegations. You haven't told us what _you_ want out of all this."

"You're going to need to check them up and act on them, one way or the other," Amy pointed out. "I know that while some of you are happy with going along with your boss, others are less than thrilled about working for him, especially when it comes to the fact of _kidnapped children._ Or are you willing to live with the knowledge that you could have done something … and didn't?"

Amy's eyes tracked toward Skitter; the skinny girl had just moved uncomfortably. Even the bugs orbiting her were moving in a different pattern. _**Oh yeah, she doesn't like that one little bit.**_

"Hell, _I'm _comfortable with it," Regent offered from his seat. "What I'm _not _comfortable with is some walk-in knowing shit like my real name."

"That's because you're a sociopath." Amy told him. "Probably not your fault. Heartbreaker was not a model dad."

Silence again; Skitter's head turned toward Regent, who got out of his seat.

"Okay," he snapped. "I've just about had enough of this -"

He was moving toward Amy, heavy-looking sceptre in his hand, when Grue got in his way.

"Sit. Down."

"What the fuck?" snarled Regent, looking down at the large glove-clad hand that had been placed in the middle of his chest. "You're taking _her_ side in this?"

"You keep sniping at her, you take your lumps," Grue informed him.

"But she said -"

"She _also_ warned us about the ABB," Tattletale spoke up from the couch, where she was leaning back, eyes closed, hand on her forehead. "And gave us valuable intel on Bakuda."

"If it's true," Regent retorted sulkily.

"Oh, it's true," Tattletale informed him. "She's not lying."

"Unless she's being _Mastered,"_ Regent pointed out. "Which you said she is."

"Then the Master isn't lying," she reiterated. "Either way, it's not a lie. She believes what she's saying. And it makes too much sense to not be true."

"And what about the other stuff?" asked Skitter. "About the boss? Enslaving you? Killing me if I become inconvenient? The kidnapped kid? How is that okay? Why aren't we talking about that?"

"Because Tattletale knows who he is, and has a good idea of what his real power is," Amy replied steadily. "And she's been given orders to not tell anyone …" She trailed off, because Tattletale had produced her little pistol again.

_**Christ, she really is between a rock and a hard place.**_

Amy couldn't formulate a reply, because she was staring at the muzzle of the gun. It was tiny, really, just a fraction of an inch across, but to her it looked enormous.

She felt him take over speaking for her. "And because he had her recruited at gunpoint," she heard her own voice say, "and she can't be sure that I'm not pulling some sort of bluff intended to out her if she's intending to betray him."

Grue stared at Tattletale. "You never told me that!" he blurted.

Tattletale sighed. "I never told you a lot of things," she told him. "Panacea, you said before that you know all our real names. Was that true?"

She felt control return again. _**Tell her yes. The other ones are Brian, Lisa and Taylor.**_

"Uh, yes," she confirmed. "Do you want me to prove it?"

A shake of the head. "No, don't bother," replied the blonde. "Are you working for … for the boss, in any way?"

Amy shook her head. "No," she stated firmly. "Just the -"

Tattletale held up her hand. "Don't say any more," she ordered. "'No' is good enough for me. Right. You know stuff, and you've come to us to give us stuff, but you haven't yet told us what you want from us." Absently, she put the gun away.

_**I need to save the world, and you guys are the first step. Plus, I'm going to need a place to stay.**_

_What? I can't say something like that!_

_**Why not?**_

_Because it's … it's too corny, that's what! They'll never believe it. And do I really need a place to stay?_

_**Not sure. Maybe. Okay, tell them this.**_

Amy cleared her throat. "I want you to help me rescue Dinah Alcott."

* * *

><p>End of Part Four<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

**I, Panacea**

* * *

><p>Part Five: Arguing the Point<p>

* * *

><p>"I want you to help me rescue Dinah Alcott."<p>

Silence greeted her statement.

Amy looked from one Undersider to another, trying to gauge their responses. Skitter's full-face mask was almost impossible to read, although Amy thought she saw a change in the flight patterns of the bugs orbiting her. Grue, with his full-face helmet, was likewise a blank slate as far as she was concerned.

Regent's head came up; despite his full-face mask, she could easily tell his mood from the tone of his voice. "Really?" he asked – no, _sneered. _"You want us to turn against the guy who's been backing us for a year? Who's paid us thousands of bucks at a time just to stay on his payroll? Who's never steered us wrong yet?"

"No," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "I want you to turn against the guy who's been _using_ you all this time. Who would discard or betray you in a hot Brockton Bay minute if it suited him. Who wants to take over the city, at every level, and is willing to do anything, to kill anyone, to murder or torture or enslave absolutely anyone - including any of you five - in order to do so. And who won't feel a moment's remorse about it." She looked over at Grue. "And that includes your sister, if that's what it took to keep you in line," she assured him.

She saw his hands flex, clenching into fists. "What do you know about my sister?" he growled, his voice hollow inside the helmet.

"Just about everything that's important," Amy told him, trying to match Michael's careless tone. "How old she is, what she looks like, where she lives, what she wears, stuff like that. _And,"_ she added meaningfully, "the fact that you're in the villain game so you can take care of her, give her a proper home, keep her safe. And Coil _will_use that against you in a heartbeat."

There was a pause, as she realised what she'd just said, repeating Michael's words. _Did you mean to say Coil's name? I thought we were going to keep that a secret for a little bit._

_**Oh shit. No, I didn't. Sorry, my bad.**_

Skitter spoke first. "Who's Coil?"

Grue was looking at Tattletale. "You mean to say our boss is _Coil?"_ He turned to look at Regent. "Did you know this?"

Regent shrugged. "Didn't know, didn't care. Still don't, not really. Anyone who works for one of the big boys knows the score. Big money, but if you fuck up, big risks."

More and more bugs were swirling around the room; their buzzing was ramping up in intensity.

_**You see that? Skitter's always calm, collected. But that's because she puts her emotions into the swarm. They start acting like that, you know she's pissed.**_

Amy glanced at the skinny bug-controller. She didn't seem to be particularly upset or unhappy; even when she spoke again, her voice was steady and even. "I said, who's Coil?"

Tattletale glanced at Amy; the villain looked less and less happy by the moment. But she did not speak.

"A mid-to-low tier operator," Grue told her. "I'd always heard he hired non-powered help. Didn't know capes were his thing at all. Hell, I didn't even know he had powers."

"Oh, he's got powers all right," Amy told him. "I'm fairly sure you think you know what they are, Tattletale … but I also suspect you're wrong."

"Just wait a fucking minute," Tattletale snapped. "Okay, this bullshit's gone on long enough." She pointed at Amy. "I want to talk to you. Not to Panacea, and not to Panacea saying what the Master says to say. I want to talk directly to the Master."

There was a pause, and Michael spoke delicately. _**You okay with me talking directly to her?**_

Mentally, Amy shrugged. _Sure, may as well._

_**Right, thanks.**_

"You got me," Amy heard herself say. "You realise I'm gonna keep infodumping on your group until you all decide to help out … Sarah."

_Who's Sarah?_ But then Amy realised by the look of shock on Tattletale's face that it must be her.

_Wait a minute. You said her name was Lisa._

_**It is now. She changed it. Sarah's the name she was born with.**_

Tattletale – Sarah – was holding the little pistol again. She wasn't quite pointing it at Amy, but it wasn't far off either. "Keep doing that," she growled, "and this interview gets a whole lot harder."

Amy's shoulders shifted in a shrug. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"For a start," Tattletale began, "who are you, and how do you know all this stuff?"

Amy's eyes rolled. "For fuck's sake," her voice muttered, "why is it that even the people who know I'm telling the truth keep having to ask damn stupid fucking questions, instead of just _acting_ on the information?"

"I've got the gun," Tattletale reminded Amy, and by extension, Michael. "I ask the questions."

"I'm not from this world," Amy's voice stated. "As for my name, I have several, but for the moment, you can call me Security. As for how I know this … let's just say, I've studied your world for quite a long time. Years, in fact. I know your history, and how it's due to run. I'd like to put a short-circuit on some of the more _moronic_ decisions that some of you people are going to be making. And step number one is _saving the precog who knows when the fucking world is going to end."_

Very slowly, Tattletale put her gun away. "Okay," she replied quietly. "I'm listening."

Abruptly, there was a snort from across the room. Everyone looked at Regent, who appeared to be quietly laughing.

"You mind telling us what's funny?" asked Grue, in his hollow, echoing voice.

Regent pointed at Amy. "Her," he chuckled. "End of the world? Really? That the best you can do?"

Amy felt her lips curling in a thin smile. "I wouldn't worry, Jean-Paul," her voice murmured. "You won't live to see it. If I go away and do nothing from here on in, you're due to die in late July anyway. So for your own good, I'd strongly suggest you pay very bloody close attention."

Regent turned to Tattletale. "She's fucking with me, right? That's bullshit, yeah?"

Tattletale stared at Amy, then looked over at Regent. "No," she told him. "It's Security speaking, and he believes every word he says."

Grue's head came up. "'He'?" he asked.

"'He'," confirmed Tattletale. "That's a man speaking through Panacea. Older, more mature. I'd say in his thirties … no, forties. And unless he's got total and absolute control over her autonomic system, he's telling the truth about everything. Including the end of the world."

"Always keeping the secrets, huh?" Amy's voice carried just a hint of scorn. "If you didn't read more than that about me, then I'd suggest you put away the title of 'smartest person in the room'. Patrick Jane wants it back."

Amy was puzzled. _Who?_

The mental equivalent of a grin. _**Tell you later.**_

Tattletale gritted her teeth. "Okay, _fine_. I also saw that you do know each and every one of us, in more detail than I'm comfortable with. But … you bear us no ill-will. You're honestly coming to us to help us out. To keep us safe. Because we're your best hopes for getting Dinah back … and because you actually happen to _like_ us?" Her voice ended on a querying note, as if she doubted what she had just said.

Amy's hands applauded gently. "And there we are. All cards on the table. You each have problems. Working for Coil might seem to be helping, but not really. The phrase 'deal with the devil' might have been written for him, only by most accounts, the devil keeps to his bargains. Coil has no such scruples. Once the rest of this team loses its effectiveness, you're slated to be on the bed next to Dinah Alcott, drugged to the point where you can't resist, answering questions for him until you die or he does."

She shook her head, frowning. "There's my problem, right there. It _feels_ like you're telling the truth, but I've never, not ever, gotten a vibe like that out of him."

Amy felt her head nodding. "And there's your problem. You're not seeing all of Coil. You see, his power is to effectively split time. He has two paths to travel down, and he can not only interact with the world differently in each path, he can discard one path the moment it ends up where he doesn't want it to be. But he recalls both paths as if he had travelled them both in person. So he might call you in for a quiet chat, sit you down, serve you tea or coffee … and meanwhile in the other path, he's got you strapped to a chair, pulling out your fingernails, cutting off body parts … or worse. All the while asking you questions about what you're saying in the friendly chat. Were you planning to betray him, that sort of thing."

Amy wanted to throw up; she could visualise this, all too easily. But she didn't; her body was not her own, at the moment. She felt her head tilt questioningly. "So tell me," Michael asked in her voice, in a gentle, coaxing tone, "_have_ you ever had a quiet chat like that, where he seemed to know far too much about your business?"

The question was superfluous; Tattletale's face had gone white under her domino mask. "Oh, Christ," she muttered. "Oh, fucking hell."

Amy's head nodded. "Oh yes," she agreed. "All of that. Now, imagine what a person like that, with absolutely zero moral restraints, could do with a twelve year old girl, a precog, whose power does _not_ interfere with his. A girl who's being drugged into compliance, right this very second."

Tattletale began to look positively unwell.

"We can't let this happen," Skitter urged Tattletale, her voice a little agitated. "We _can't_ … right?"

Grue stepped forward. "I don't like it either," he stated firmly. "I like the money, but there's more important things than money."

Regent stared. "Seriously?" he blurted. "What the fuck sort of talk is that? More important than money?"

Tattletale and Grue turned to look at him. "Are you standing against us on this?" Grue asked.

Regent shook his head. "No, shit, if it gives me a chance to have some fun, I'm with you all the way. But I thought this bleeding-heart shit was more the dork's thing. Not you guys."

_The dork?_

_**Skitter. She only just joined, remember.**_

_Ah._

"It's not about bleeding hearts," Grue told him. "It's about cutting loose from someone dangerous before he hurts or kills one of ours. And if we're going to have him as an enemy, we don't want him also having access to the Alcott girl."

But Amy's head was shaking. "You're not going to have him as an enemy," her voice stated bluntly.

"Why not?" asked Grue.

"Fuck. Me," whispered Tattletale, her face turning white once more. "You want us to _kill_ him."

* * *

><p>"<em>Well, <strong>that<strong> was well handled," Carol commented acerbically._

_Mark looked at her, confused. "What? What was I supposed to do? Tie her up and carry her up to her room? Lock her in there till she turned eighteen?"_

_Carol shook her head. "No. But you would have done a lot better if you hadn't just sat there, nodding your head like a wooden dummy. Backed me up a little, maybe."_

"_What?" He stared at her. "Lied about Marquis? She already **knew** about him. How she's a supervillain's daughter. The cat was already out of the bag."_

"_If there's one thing I've learned in court," Carol snapped, "it's that it's not the truth that matters, but what sounds best. We could have spun it, convinced her that she had bad information."_

_Mark shook his head. "We already made the mistake of not telling her about him, back when she first asked. Outright lying to her? When she found out – and she **would** have found out – there goes all trust she ever had for us."_

"_She might not have found out," Carol objected, but it was weak, and she knew it. "And anyway, where **did** she find out? **How** did she find out?"_

_Mark shrugged elaborately. "I have no idea."_

_Carol eyed him suspiciously. "You drove her to the PRT building and back. You had plenty of time to talk. And she's been acting a little bit off since the bank robbery."_

_Mark stared at her. "You think **I** told her?"_

"_You could have," she pressed. "And you've never been totally happy with keeping her in the dark."_

"_But I agreed to," he argued. "And I didn't tell her. Not about that."_

"_What **did** you talk about?" she asked._

"_Stuff," he replied with a shrug. "The mayor's family. Not much, really. She spent most of the drive looking out the window."_

"_So, nothing at all about Marquis at all, then?"_

_He threw up his hands. "For Christ's sake, Carol, no. Nothing about him at all. Full stop. Period. Exclamation mark. Quotation mark. End of sentence."_

_Carol frowned. "So why was she acting strangely when she came back?"_

_Mark rolled his eyes. "She **was** hit on the head, Carol," he reminded her. "Vicky's normally up and about like wildfire, but she's lurking under the covers like she never wants to come out. So Amy's not the only one acting strangely."_

"_But Vicky was actually **hurt,**" Carol insisted. "Bug bites can cause severe allergic reactions. Amy just got a little bump on the head."_

"_I don't know then," Mark responded non-committally, dropping his gaze to the paper before him._

"_I've never seen something get Vicky like that before," Carol went on, not listening to her husband. "What happened, anyway? Amy was there. Why didn't she back Vicky up?"_

"_I don't know that either," Mark replied, turning a page of the paper._

"_And why didn't she heal Vicky before they even got back?" Carol's voice had risen slightly. "Those welts and bumps … ugh."_

_Mark turned another page. "I'm sure I don't know, dear."_

_Carol stared at him. "Are you reading the **paper**? We're having a discussion!"_

_Mark stood up and folded the paper under his arm. He headed for the stairs._

"_Where are you going?" demanded Carol from behind him._

"_Upstairs," he told her, without looking back. "So you can have your discussion in peace."_

_And all she could do was stare, with her mouth hanging open, as he climbed the stairs._

* * *

><p>End of Part Five<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

**I, Panacea**

* * *

><p>Part Six: Arguments and Agreements<p>

* * *

><p>Amy felt her lips twist in what was almost a smile. "You're not shocked because I'm talking about killing him, are you?" her voice asked. "You're shocked because you didn't think anyone else knew that <em>you<em> want to kill him."

_Wait, what? _Amy asked, in her own mind. _We're going to **kill** him? Isn't that a bit extreme? Why can't we just capture him and turn him over to the authorities?_

Mentally, he sighed. _**He's too dangerous for that. His power lets him literally have two chances at everything, including escape attempts.**_

_So have him sent straight to the Birdcage, _she argued.

_**Even if he made it there, he would either be dead or running the place inside six months, and I'm betting on 'running the place'. And probably breaking out in another six. The only absolutely safe way to incarcerate him is to put him in solitary and weld the door shut. And never allow him any sort of uncontrolled communication with the outside world. Anything short of that runs risks that I'm just not willing to take.**_

What frightened her the most wasn't the words he was using. It was the matter-of-fact tone that he took. He meant every single word.

_So we're just going to murder him. _Her voice was bleak.

_**Execute.**_ His was firm. _**Innocents get murdered. Monsters get executed.**_

"Well, well, _well_." Tattletale's voice was bright, her expression one of interest. "It looks like there's dissension in the ranks. Seems as though Panacea isn't as thrilled about the idea of killing Coil as our mysterious 'Security' is."

Amy felt her lips compress slightly, just as she felt the spill-over of the annoyance from the presence sharing her head. "Really?" he asked Tattletale, resignation mixing with the annoyance. "You had to bring _that_ up?"

Tattletale grinned, her smile very fox-like. "Hey, you show off, I show off," she replied unrepentantly.

Amy's eyes rolled. "Not the time, and not the place," her voice stated flatly. "Now, can we get down to business? We need to make a plan, and do it fast."

"What's the rush?" asked Regent. "He doesn't know we're coming, so we can take all the time in the world."

"Except that in twenty-four to forty-eight hours, he will have one of the world's most powerful precogs addicted to whatever drugs he's been feeding her, and she'll be desperate for more, so she will answer any questions he has for her. Questions that he'll be carefully formulating to have a very real chance of uncovering whatever plans you are hatching behind the scenes, unless we're very careful about this."

Tattletale grimaced. "And we're going to have to do this before he calls me in for our next chat. Because if you're right … "

She paused expectantly, and Amy heard herself chime in, right on cue, "And we both know that I am."

Tattletale nodded. "Yeah. He will find out. All about this. About you. And about how we're planning to take him down. Take him out." Her voice was grim, her face set.

Reminded of what they were planning, Amy found her mental voice again. _I'm still really, really not comfortable with this._

_**What can I say to convince you that he really does deserve the quickest death we can give him?**_

_If you know me at all, you'll know that I've spent the last three years of my life helping people, saving lives. I can't even **imagine** helping to kill someone. Much less …_

_**Much less kill them yourself. I got it.**_

_Have **you** ever killed anyone?_

He paused for a long moment. **_I ... yeah, I killed someone. Special circumstances. Saving the world. _**He didn't elaborate, although she got the impression there was much more that he could have said.

_Not Coil?_

_**No. The last time I was in this situation, we had the PRT and the Wards to call on. Plus Canary. Fuck. How am I gonna help **_**her**_** now?**_

_Who, Canary?_

_**Yeah. Sweet girl, getting railroaded by the system. I -**_

"Hey, Panacea, Security, whoever you are," called Tattletale. "Don't zone on us now. Any information you've got on Coil and his operation, it would be handy to know."

Amy felt herself sigh. "Right. Information. Real name, Thomas Calvert. He's the leader of a PRT strike squad. He bought his powers a few years back, but had to spend time using them to earn enough money to pay for them before he was able to strike out on his own."

Tattletale was staring at her again. "Wait, back up. _Bought_ his powers? Who from?"

_**Fuck. Did not mean to let that slip. I'm really not good at this off the cuff shit.**_

Her hand made a gesture, as if erasing a blackboard. "Not important."

Grue spoke up. "But if -"

Amy's head shook in negation. _"Really_ not important. I am not going to name the people involved, but I will assure you they aren't involved directly with Coil's organisation. We do _not_ want to get on their radar in any way, shape or form." She focused directly on Tattletale's bottle-green eyes. _"Do. Not."_

Whatever Tattletale saw in her eyes seemed to shake the blonde supervillain slightly. She blinked. "Okay. We'll shelve that. So he bought his powers, and now he's Coil."

"He is," Amy's voice agreed. "He's also head of a company called Fortress Constructions. They build Endbringer shelters."

"I know 'em," Grue commented unexpectedly. "Did some summer work for them, the year before I triggered."

Amy heard Michael mumbling in the back of her mind. _**Two thousand and eight, or early oh-nine.**_

_Is that important?_

_**Nope. Sorry. I have a habit of fixating on details.**_

_Great. Listen, I'm really not happy with killing -_

_**There's an alternative, but I can almost guarantee you'll be less happy with it.**_

_What's that one?_ she asked incautiously.

_**Brain surgery.**_

_I don't do brains, _she replied automatically.

_**But you could if you wanted,**_ he responded. _**So very easily. Brains **_**are**_** biology, after all.**_

_It's **wrong**! I could give in to the wrong impulse, make them do, think, whatever I wanted. What if I'm as evil as Carol thinks I am? What if doing it once makes me want to screw with the heads of everyone I meet?_

A mental sigh. _**Wasn't saying you should. But it's an alternative. You could change just one aspect of his personality, so that he uses his powers for good.**_

Her voice was bitter. _And if you decide I should 'fix' another villain, and another? Where do I stop? Where do I draw the line?_

His was almost gentle. _**These are desperate times, kiddo. The world's going to end in two years, or fourteen, depending on whether we manage to stop a psychopath in time. Sometimes, it's not 'where' we draw the line, but 'when'.**_

Her heart tried to lurch at his words, but she didn't have control over her body at the moment. _The end of the world?_

_**Afraid so.**_

_Psychopath? Coil?_

_**No. Jack Slash.**_

_He ends the world?_

"Good grief," muttered Tattletale. "Are you two having an argument or making out in there? Is there anything else we need to know?"

His attention swung outward, toward the Undersiders, who were all watching her. "Uh, yeah," she heard herself say. "Fifty mercs, more or less. They have undermounts on their guns, fire a purple laser beam that'll cut steel. Tinker-built. The mercs are well-trained. Also, there's a vault in the lower level that's got a monstrous Case 53 inside. You do _not_ allow her to come into physical contact with you. If you're _lucky_, she'll eat you alive."

"And if we're unlucky?" Tattletale's voice was hushed.

Amy drew a deep breath. "She holds your body inside hers, and spits out evil twisted clones. Clones that know everything you do, and hate everything and everyone you love. They'll have powers based vaguely on yours, but different. Sometimes more dangerous. These clones are independent, sentient, living creatures from the moment that they're produced, but you _have_ to kill them. Consider them to be Smurfed in the worst possible way."

"You mean 'Simurghed'," Tattletale corrected her.

"Same same," Amy's voice conceded irritably. "You knew what I meant." She looked at the villains in the room. "Her name's Noelle, and she's well on the way to becoming an S-class threat. So we have to figure out what to do with her before we go in there. Before we take down Coil."

Grue raised his hand slightly. "I'm beginning to wonder if we even can."

"You're the fucking _Undersiders!"_ Amy heard her voice rise sharply. "In another reality, you fucking _owned_ this city! You took on the Protectorate, the PRT, the Nine, Dragon, Echidna -"

"Fucking _what?"_ interrupted Regent, his voice amused. "What the fuck's an echidna?"

"A small Australian animal, like a porcupine but not really," Tattletale told him absently. "Echidna … that's this girl Noelle, isn't it?"

Amy felt herself nodding. "It was a codename they gave her. She did a lot of damage, killed a few heroes. One of her clones killed Myrddin. And she really wanted to kill you guys for killing Coil. So any plan we make has _got_ to include a way to neutralise her." She took a step forward. "But what I'm trying to tell you is that you guys _have_ the wherewithal to step up, to take on the big leagues. Before you're done, you totally rearrange the political landscape. One of you kills _Alexandria,_ for fuck's sake."

_What?_

"What?" blurted Grue.

"What?" echoed Tattletale.

"You're _shitting _me," Regent declared.

Even Rachel glanced up from where she was sitting with her dogs; up till this point, she had apparently spent very little time paying attention to what was being said.

"Who?" Tattletale asked.

Amy felt her eyes fix on the supervillain's face, and not leave it. "Not important. Plus, special circumstances."

For the longest time, Tattletale stared back at her, then the bottle-green eyes flickered sideways just once, almost too fast to see. She nodded. "Oh."

Amy hadn't quite seen who she'd been looking at; she waited for the villain to reveal what she'd realised, but no word came.

"Oh, indeed," her voice replied. "Now, we can _do_ this. We just have to figure out how."

* * *

><p>"<em>Mom?"<em>

_Carol put the iron down and looked around. It was probably a good thing that Vicky had interrupted her; she was driving the hot implement over the clothing with a little too much force and vigour, and the chance of causing damage to the delicate fabric was rising all the time._

"_Yes, Victoria?" she asked. "Are you feeling better?"_

_Vicky, still wearing her pyjamas, had stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "Yeah, that nap was just what I needed. The fight at the bank really took it out of me. I wanted to thank Amy for fixing my bug bites. Where is she?"_

_Carol breathed deeply through her nose, trying to stem the irritation she felt at hearing that name. "Amy," she replied, biting the name off sharply, "has gone out. She did not tell us when she would be back."_

_Vicky frowned. "Mom, what's the matter? What happened? Is something wrong?" She came forward to put her hands on Carol's shoulders. "Are you angry at Amy?"_

_Carol gathered her daughter – her **real** daughter – into her arms. "It's nothing that you need to worry about, Vicky. Everything's fine now."_

_Vicky hugged her back. "Are you sure? Because you were ironing those clothes like you had a personal grudge against them."_

_She felt her anger flare up again. "Vicky. Please. Drop it."_

_Her daughter put her at arm's length again and studied her intently. "Mom, you're starting to worry me."_

_Carol sighed; the genuine concern in Vicky's voice served to damp down the heat of her irritation. "Okay, come on. Let's sit down. I have something to tell you."_

* * *

><p>"Next bus should be by in about five minutes," Tattletale – or rather, Lisa – announced, as the bus stop came into view.<p>

"Thanks," Amy told her. "And I appreciate you guys walking me back."

"Still think we could have been faster riding," Rachel growled.

"Some of us have costumed identities," Grue reminded her.

"So we costume up," Alec observed; he was no more a fan of walking than Rachel was.

Grue raised an eyebrow. "Which draws attention. Which we do _not_ need, especially not now."

Taylor stepped up alongside Amy. "I'm really sorry about the knife thing. And the baton thing," she told the older girl in a low voice. "And the black widow thing. I just didn't want anyone getting hurt."

"So you put deadly poisonous spiders on everyone," Amy returned dryly.

* * *

><p>She had found the Undersiders, once they had decided to unmask to her, to be surprisingly likeable. Lisa had led the trend, noting that Security knew all their faces and identities anyway; Amy had been surprised to see how much difference the mask and the messy hair made to her appearance. She had already seen Brian's face, while Alec's had higher cheekbones, was more delicate. Rachel almost ignored the whole concept of a secret identity, which kind of made sense, as her real identity was out there anyway, along with her face. But Taylor, the newest member, the bug girl …<p>

Amy had been ready to dislike her. After all, the girl had threatened a couple of dozen innocents with black widow spiders. But there was nothing of the hardened criminal about her. Removing the mask had revealed a reasonably plain face, with large eyes and a wide mouth. Putting on her round-lensed glasses had completed the transformation from supervillain to perfectly normal high-school student.

* * *

><p>"I wasn't going to use them to <em>bite<em> anyone," Taylor insisted. "It was just to make sure that no-one tried to be a hero, you know? That sort of thing gets people hurt. We just wanted to get in and out with the money." She still felt bad about it, Amy could see.

"So meanwhile," Amy agreed with a crooked grin, "I tried to be a hero and got hurt."

"I'm _sorry,"_ Taylor repeated. "I was _never _going to hurt you. Things just … got out of hand."

Amy rubbed the sore spot on the side of her head. "Yeah. I suppose you could say that."

"Hey, you made my head ring, too," Taylor reminded her. "You swing a mean fire extinguisher." She paused. "Is Glory Girl all right? After she dislocated Lisa's shoulder, I didn't want to take any chances."

Amy nodded. "Yeah, but she's still a bit shell-shocked. No-one's ever done that to her before." She paused. "Uh, Security says that it's probably a good thing. Now she'll be a bit more careful. She's always been too dependent on her invulnerability."

Reminded of her passenger, she sent an inward query. _Are you still there?_

_**Sure. I'm staying out of it for now. Carry on, you're doing fine.**_

_Okay, thanks._

"I have to say," Lisa commented, leaning up against the bus stop, "that it was one hell of a shock to have you show up on our doorstep like that. Did Security tell you to come?"

Amy shook her head as she gratefully sat down. "No, actually. He wanted me to reach out to you, but it was my idea to come here today, now."

"Why did you?" asked Brian bluntly.

Amy didn't answer for a moment. Instead, she watched Rachel with her three dogs; giving them commands both verbal and silent, sending them here and there, retrieving a stick or a ball with absolute precision.

Raising her eyes back to Brian's face, she spoke slowly, consideringly. "He told me about Dinah Alcott, and the situation she was in. I didn't believe him, not at first, not until I had confirmed that the Mayor had a niece, and that she'd been kidnapped. Then I wanted to see what sort of people you really were. I didn't believe him about that either. But that's why I came. So I could see, and decide what to do next."

"You did the right thing," Taylor told her firmly. "We _will_ help her."

Lisa was rubbing her chin. "Not the only reason," she mused. "Something else. Some anger there. A fight. A confrontation."

_**Oh. Which reminds me.**_

_What? What of?_

_**Tell you later.**_

_Oh, uh, okay?_

Amy watched Lisa cautiously. "Do you _have_ to go there?" she asked.

Lisa made a vague gesture. "My power. It feeds me conclusions."

Amy sighed. "Okay then, _yes_. I confronted my parents about what you said in the bank. About my father. They didn't want to tell me, there was some yelling, so I went out, and came here. Because I wanted _something_ positive to happen today."

Lisa tilted her head. "I never told you who your father was." A pause. "Ah. Security. Does he know about the other thing – oh, yeah, I see he does." A frown creased her face. "How does he feel – ah."

Amy felt her cheeks flaming red. _"You can shut up now,"_ she gritted.

_**Ahem. Ask her how Rex is doing these days.**_

Amy looked at Lisa's dancing eyes, her mischievous grin. "I just got told to ask you how Rex is doing these days."

And just like that, the light died in Lisa's eyes, the grin fell away. "Low blow," she muttered. "Low fucking blow."

_Who's Rex?_

_**Her older brother. Committed suicide. Caused her to trigger.**_

_Christ, you could have **told** me. I'd never have said it like that._

_**She was giving you a hard time!**_

_It was all in fun! Jesus!_

Amy stood up, opened her arms and hugged Lisa. "Look, I'm sorry," she muttered. "I didn't mean to – he told me to say it, didn't tell me who Rex was."

Just for a moment Lisa leaned into the embrace, then she pulled away. "Hey, don't go getting ideas now, just because I'm blonde," she snarked, the grin returning to her face.

Amy rolled her eyes and jabbed Lisa in the ribs. "Seriously," she growled. "You villains and your sense of humour."

"Help, help, I'm being brutalised by a superhero," Lisa announced in a deadpan voice. Brian started chuckling, followed by Taylor. Alec looked bored; Rachel glanced over, then ignored them thereafter.

The dogs heard the bus first; they turned their heads and one of them barked; Rachel hushed it with a word. It was still a little distance away; Amy turned toward Rachel. "I've been meaning to ask," she commented. "What are your dogs' names?"

Rachel pointed at them each in turn. "Brutus. Judas. Angelica." As they heard their names, their heads came up and their ears twitched.

Amy nodded. "Before I go, if you want, I could check them over."

Rachel glared at her. "What, you think I don't take care of my dogs?"

_All I did was offer. What did I do wrong?_

_**Don't be tentative. Be positive. Look her in the eye.**_

Amy took a deep breath, and forced herself to look the bulkier girl in the eyes. It wasn't easy for her; she naturally tended toward deference. "No, I don't think that," she stated as firmly as she could. "But my power gives me the ability to see if anything, anything at all, is wrong with them. Parasites that have only just lodged. Diseases they've only just caught. Cuts, bruises. I can fix all that. But only if you want me to."

She held the stare as Rachel continued to glare at her. Gradually, a little of the hostility leached out, and Rachel nodded sharply. "Okay." She whistled, and the dogs sat down in front of her in a row.

Amy went to thank her, but found that the words would not come out.

_**Don't thank her. It doesn't mean anything to her.**_

_Oh. Okay._

Dropping to one knee, she ran her hands over the muzzle and head of the dog called Brutus. He was in good health; there were a couple of old injuries, but they weren't hampering him. She moved to Judas, and found a cut on his pad, which she closed over, and the beginning of an ear infection, which she cleared up. Finally, she went to Angelica. The torn ear was only cosmetic, but the missing eye -

"I can grow her eye back if you want."

Rachel stared down at her. "What?"

"Her eye. I can grow it back."

"Will it work?"

"Yes. It will work." Did the girl think she'd give the dog a non-working eye?

"Good. Do it."

_Wow, I see what you mean about not understanding 'thanks'._

_**She doesn't think 'human'. She thinks 'dog'.**_

_Oh. Okay. I think._

Angelica whimpered and shifted under her hands as the eye began to reform in the socket, but a sharp word from Rachel held the animal still. In seconds, the operation was complete, and the dog was blinking at them from two perfectly normal eyes. She looked somewhat confused for a few moments, but seemed to be adjusting well. Rachel leaned down and snapped her fingers on either side of the dog's head; covering the good eye with her hand, she watched as Angelica tracked her finger with the the regrown one.

She slapped Amy on the shoulder. "It works. Good."

_I see what you mean. I feel as though I've just been fed a doggy treat for doing a trick properly._

There was an amused snort. _**Something like that.**_

The bus pulled up at the stop, and the doors opened; Amy got up, dusted her knee off and nodded to the Undersiders. "I'll see you guys later then."

Brian nodded back. "See you then. And thanks for stepping up."

Amy shook her head. "Can't let that shit fly."

She turned and climbed on board the bus; to her surprise, Taylor followed.

"What's going on?" asked Amy. "Are you bodyguarding me home?"

Taylor shook her head. "Nope. I need to get home, too."

They found seats down the back, away from everyone else. Amy shook her head. "Somehow, I never thought of supervillains riding the bus. It just doesn't fit the image."

Taylor grinned. "You'll have to excuse me. I'm only new at it."

For some reason, this struck Amy as being very funny.

* * *

><p>End of Part Six<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

**I, Panacea**

* * *

><p>Part Seven: Questions and Answers<p>

* * *

><p>Taylor looked directly at Amy. "Listen ... before we go any farther, can you answer some questions for me?"<p>

_Uh ... what do I say?_

_**Say yes. I suspect that these are questions you'd like answered, too.**_

Amy nodded. "Yes." She paused. "That is, Security will be telling me the answers, and I'll be passing them on to you."

Behind her glasses, Taylor frowned slightly. "Not to say that I don't trust you, but ... "

_**May I?**_

Amy sighed internally. _Okay. Go ahead._

"But you're wondering if she'll give you the answers I give her, right?"

Taylor blinked slightly. "I'm talking to ... Security, now, right?"

Amy's mouth curled into a slight smile. "That's me. Mike Allen, at your service."

"Right." Taylor took a breath. "How can I know that I can trust what you have to tell me?"

Amy felt herself shrug. "You'll have to make up your own mind on that. But I'll tell you now; I know things about you that you don't think anyone else knows, I know things about you that not even _Lisa_ knows … and I know things about that _you_ don't know. And I'm willing to share."

"I'm really not sure how to take that," Taylor responded. "You could be running a huge bluff."

"Not on Lisa. She'd know if I was lying. Or if Amy was. You noticed she could tell between when I was talking, when Amy was talking, and when Amy was telling her what I was saying?"

Reluctantly, Taylor nodded. "Yeah. So, uh, talking about Lisa, would you be able to tell me … "

Amy felt her eyebrow lift. "Does she know? Yeah. She knows."

Taylor paled. "Shit."

Amy's head shook slightly. "Don't worry about it. She knows that you'd decide, eventually, to join them for real. She's not going to out you to them."

"Oh." Taylor paused, her gaze becoming introspective.

_Is this about her being a hero and infiltrating them?_

_**Yeah. Lisa knew from the start. But she was kind of suicidal, so Lisa took her under her wing anyway.**_

_Oh. Because of her brother?_

_**Basically, yeah.**_

Amy paused to consider that. Lisa was being nice to Taylor because she wanted to help her …

_You realise, this is really screwing with my perception of how villains are supposed to act._

_**I find it helps if you ignore the descriptor and focus on the actions and the motivations.**_

Oblivious to the silent conversation, Taylor spoke up again. "Armsmaster told me that there are two murderers in the Undersiders. Who are they? And who kills Alexandria?"

Amy felt her throat being cleared. _**Oh boy. This is going to be interesting.**_

_Why? What's the matter?_

_**You'll see.**_

"Before I answer that, Taylor," Amy's voice replied, "I need you to remember to keep an open mind. All right?"

Taylor grimaced. "Oh shit. _Lisa?"_

A shake of the head. "Taylor. Open mind. Okay?"

"Okay." Taylor bit her lip slightly. "So tell me."

Amy took a deep breath. "Alec is one of them. I mentioned that he's Heartbreaker's son, yeah?"

"Uh, I've _heard_ of Heartbreaker," Taylor admitted. "But I don't know too much about him."

"Canadian villain. Emotion controlling powers. He can rewrite your entire mindset regarding himself. Make you love him, utterly loyal, scared to death, whatever. And it doesn't wear off, if he doesn't want it to. He meets celebrities in the street, talks to them for thirty seconds, and they willingly come home with him." Amy was surprised by the flat, hard tone of her own voice.

_Wow, you don't like him very much._

_**Would you?**_

She considered for a moment. _I don't suppose I would._

"Christ," muttered Taylor. "Why haven't they - "

"Arrested him?" Amy's shoulders rose and fell in another shrug. "They tried. Everyone who comes near him falls under his spell. Anyone who tries to get close has to get through all the innocents; people who will literally lay down their lives for him. So they leave him be."

"That's horrible." Taylor looked sick. "And Alec is one of his kids?"

Amy's head nodded. "He wanted to get away from the old man. But before he managed it, he was ordered by Heartbreaker to kill one of his minions, a man who had let him down. So he did. Forced the man to kill himself."

"A murderer." Taylor's voice was hard.

"Under duress by Heartbreaker," Amy's voice reminded her. "The reason he doesn't seem to be a very nice person? That's years of his father screwing with his head."

"Oh. Okay." She paused for a moment. "And the other murderer?"

"Rachel."

Taylor's eyes opened wider for a moment, then she slowly nodded. For a moment, one hand rested on the other sleeve. "Yeah. I can believe that."

"Taylor." Amy's voice was flat. "Listen to me. Rachel has had a really horrible deal. You already know that she spent ten years in the foster system, right?"

Taylor nodded again. "Yeah. Brian told me." Her tone wasn't as flat, any more.

Amy's voice went on. "Abandoned by her mother when she was four, put into the foster system. Systematically targeted by all the other kids, until she learned to fight back, and hit hard and fast, before they could hit her."

That shot went home, Amy saw. Taylor was jolted to her heels.

_Why did that affect her so much?_ Then she realised. _Oh – you said she was bullied._

_**Yeah. Up till now she's seen Rachel as a thug. Now, she might see why she's like that.**_

Taylor looked at Amy. "When did she … "

"Become like she is now? It took ten years. She was seen as a troublemaker, nothing she did was good enough, nothing she owned was sacred. Until she found a stray dog, coaxed it home, kept it in secret, went hungry to feed it her own lunches. But then her foster mother … well, let's just say, the dog was drowning, and Rachel triggered. Her power activated, the dog got big, it had never been trained, and it went after the foster family. People got hurt. Killed."

"Oh god." Taylor's hands were clenching tightly. "I've been seeing her all wrong. She … she's like me, in a way."

Amy felt her head nod, her hand reach out to rest on Taylor's forearm. Taylor glanced up at her, wary.

"Your arm," Amy's voice observed. "Where her dog bit it. Still sore?"

Taylor blinked. "How did -" She cut herself off. "You _said_ you knew stuff I thought no-one knew."

"I did," Amy heard herself confirm. She didn't try to say anything for herself; her head was whirling over what she'd just heard herself say, about two of the villains she had just been talking to.

"Oh, uh, yeah, still a bit sore," Taylor admitted. "But it's fine." She took a deep breath. "How about the other bit? Who's due to kill Alexandria?"

Amy took a deep breath. "Okay, first off? Me telling you this makes it a whole lot less likely to happen. Which is probably a good thing. But second? What I said earlier, about an open mind? Goes twice as much for this one."

"All right," Taylor agreed, her voice steady. "I can do that. I'm listening. I won't judge."

Amy nodded, but her passenger did not speak through her. She could feel his mind racing, even though she couldn't see the shape of the thoughts themselves.

_Are you trying to figure out how to break it to her? Which of her friends is going to murder Alexandria?_

_**Kind of. This is going to be a real tough one.**_

_If you tell me who, I can maybe offer advice?_

A mental shake of the head. _**Sorry. I'm going to have to … hmm.**_

"Taylor." Her voice was quiet, almost contemplative. "Let me ask you a question. Hypothetically."

Taylor nodded warily. "Okay."

"Let's say, hypothetically speaking, you're in the place of the person who's going to kill Alexandria."

Even more warily, Taylor nodded again. "All right."

"Now, you don't want to do it. Who does? Seriously, Alexandria's a hero. Or at least, you're used to seeing her as a hero. But right now, she's threatening to capture your friends, one by one, unless you surrender to her. She's already grabbed a couple. And the last one she brought in, in a body bag. And you're fairly sure that it's Brian."

Taylor's face had paled again, and her hands were clenched. "Oh god."

Amy's head nodded. "Yeah. So, hypothetically speaking, if you wanted to prevent her from killing the rest of your friends, including Lisa, and killing her was the only way to do it, would you?"

Taylor's head was lowered, but her knuckles were white. "God help me." Her voice was barely audible.

Amy's arm went out, and her hand rested on Taylor's shoulder for a moment. "If you really _want_ to know who kills Alexandria, I can tell you. But you don't have to know, not really. The circumstances, yeah. The culprit, not so much, yeah?"

There was a long, long pause, then Taylor raised her head. "No," she managed. "No. I don't."

"And anyway," Amy heard herself add briskly, "because I've told you this, I doubt very much that it'll ever happen. So cheer up. Bullet dodged."

Taylor blinked. " … right."

_So who does kill Alexandria?_

_**Given that it's never likely to happen now, does it matter?**_

Amy paused; there was a tone in his mental voice … _It's Taylor, isn't it?_

_**One more time. Does it really matter?**_

She looked at Taylor. The girl did not look like a murderer to her. _No. I guess not._

Taylor sniffled and pulled out a tissue, to wipe her nose. "So. What else do you have to tell me?"

Amy's head tilted slightly. "Did you have any more questions?"

"You said that you know stuff about me that I don't know about myself. What is it?"

Amy felt herself smile. "Good question. Several things, in fact. One of which is that you're becoming less and less likely to change sides back to being a hero, at this stage. Lisa is a good friend, you're developing feelings for Brian, which he's too focused to return, and Armsmaster is still a dick."

Startled, Taylor let out a giggle. "Yes, he is, isn't he? But Brian … " Her expression became lost. "I … he … "

"He's fixated on making a proper home for his little sister," Amy heard herself explain. "Besides, you're two years younger than him; he's growing to see you more as a sister than as a potential love interest." A shrug. "Sorry."

"Okay, fine," she replied, her voice perhaps harsher than Amy thought she intended it to be. "That'll just make it easier to break free. I know who their boss is now. I can turn them in."

Amy's head shook. "Probably not a good idea," her voice cautioned Taylor. "If you try to inform the PRT about Coil, they _will_ stuff it up. Taking him out requires immediate action, and the PRT is a bureaucracy. They never do anything fast. And that's _if_ they take you seriously. Worst case, Lisa is killed or enslaved, and the Undersiders with her."

Taylor's head hit the backrest with a soft _thump._ "Fuck."

"On the other hand, I can offer you something we _can _act on," Amy heard herself continue brightly. "Something that will improve your life measurably."

Taylor glanced at her sharply. "What?"

Amy felt herself smile. "What if I said I could stop the bullying? Flat, dead, over and done?"

Silence fell between them; Taylor's eyes bored into Amy's. She had never been on the receiving end of such an intense stare before.

"You can do that." It was not a question.

_Wait, you can **do** that?_

His tone was amused. **We**_** can do that. If you're willing.**_

"Well," her voice responded to Taylor, "given that I know who and why, and Panacea _is_ a well-known hero, I'm thinking if I walked into Winslow tomorrow morning, and had a word with Principal Blackwell about Emma Barnes, Madison Clements, and … " A pause, inviting.

"Sophia Hess," Taylor completed the statement, biting the words off.

_Wait, what? Sophia Hess? I know that name. That's …_

_**Oh yeah. That's Shadow Stalker.**_ There was grim satisfaction in his voice.

_Wait, Taylor's being bullied by a **Ward**?_

_**Since before she was a Ward, but yeah. That's the gist.**_

_Oh shit, that's so wrong._

"Exactly and precisely," Amy heard herself say; she wasn't sure if he was responding to Taylor or herself, or both. "If I told Blackwell that those three were bullying you, and that I wanted something done about it _now _… "

"But would they do anything?" protested Taylor. "Would they even _listen_ to you?"

"I'll let Amy answer that one." Amy felt the control over her body relax and withdraw. _**Over to you.**_

_What? What do I say?_

_**What would you say in a situation like this?**_

She took a deep breath. "Yeah, they would. Especially if I brought along Glory Girl. You know, my sister?" She grinned at Taylor. "I tell her about this, and I guarantee she will go to _town_ on this Blackwell person. She's got a thing about people hurting those weaker than them. Also, she loves a good media spectacle."

Taylor grimaced. "But … how are you going to explain why superheroes are getting involved anyway? It's likely to make people look closely at me. I don't want to be outed for this."

Amy shook her head. "No, you won't. Because there's another cape involved. And this will mean that Blackwell will want to keep it as quiet as possible."

"What, _Blackwell's_ a cape?" Taylor shook her head violently. "I can't see that."

Amy chuckled. "No. She's not." _Is she?_

_**Nope. Carry on, you're doing fine.**_

_Thanks. _"But if I tell her that one of her students, who she _knows_ is a cape_, _is bullying someone, she's not going to want that to get out."

Taylor stared at Amy. " … what?"

_Should I tell her again?_

A grin. _**No. Let her sort it out in her own mind.**_

Amy felt a sudden doubt. _Should we really out Shadow Stalker to her, in this way? Taylor might decide to take drastic action._

_**She won't.**_

_How do you know?_

_**Because she didn't, the last two times that she did find out.**_

_That's very confusing, when you talk like that, you know._

A grin. _**I know. **_The grin faded. _**And besides, Shadow Stalker needs to be shut down, hard.**_

_Okay, I can get that. Bullying is -_

Taylor spoke, interrupting her train of thought. "So what you're saying is, either Emma, Madison or Sophia is a cape."

Amy nodded. "Yes. Exactly."

"Are you going to make me guess?"

"No." Amy took a deep breath. "It's Sophia."

"Sophia?" repeated Taylor. "Sophia _Hess?She's_ the cape?"

Amy glanced around. No-one was paying attention to them. "Keep it down," she suggested anyway. "But yes, that's what Security tells me."

Taylor ran her hands through her hair, disarranging it thoroughly. She didn't seem to notice, or care. "Shit. _Shit. _Who is she? Which cape?" Without waiting for an answer, she moved on. "Is she a Ward?"

"Uh, yes," Amy answered.

Taylor's eyes snapped into focus. "Shadow Stalker," she whispered. "She's _Shadow Stalker."_

Amy nodded. "Yes," she agreed. "But you've got to _listen."_

The sharp tone in her voice seemed to get Taylor's attention. "What?"

"We don't just go in looking for trouble," Amy urged her. "You shelve it, for the evening. Tomorrow, we go to the school. I'll back you up. I'll get Vicky to come along too. She'll enjoy the chance to yell at someone. We confront Blackwell."

_**Tell her to bring the pages.**_

_Pages?_

_**She'll know what I mean. The ones she's been working on.**_

Taylor was looking at her; she realised that she had stopped talking. "Uh, he says to bring the pages. The ones you've been working on."

There was a light in Taylor's eyes now, one that had been absent before. "Oh, you can bet I'll bring the pages." She paused. "Did you know that she's carrying lethal arrows?"

Amy blinked. "I … no, I didn't know that. Isn't that kind of against the rules?"

"Oh yeah," Taylor replied. "Totally against her probation."

Amy held up her hand. "Wait a second." _Probation? We didn't cover this._

_**Because we didn't get to it. Shadow Stalker used to be a vigilante, right? Joined the Wards?**_

_Uh, yes?_

_**Yeah. What they don't tell you is that she nearly killed someone. Nailed him to a wall. So it was a choice between juvey and the Wards. And guess who took her side in that case.**_

_I have no idea._

_**Ask Taylor what Emma's dad does for a living.**_

Taylor grinned as Amy focused on her. "So, he fill you in, did he?"

"Uh, some of it, I guess," Amy admitted. "He wanted me to ask you what Emma's dad does for a living."

"Mr Barnes?" Taylor asked. "He's a divorce lawyer. Why?"

"Ah," Amy replied. "He's the one who represented Sophia in her hearing, to see if she'd go to juvey or not."

Taylor's jaw dropped open. "Wait, so he _knew?_ He _knows?"_

"About her being a cape, probably?" hedged Amy. _A little help?_

_**Yeah, he knows. About the bullying, probably not. But he's also likely to threaten legal action if you try to nail anything on Emma.**_

_Oh. Oh, I see._ Aloud, she continued. "Yeah, he knows about her being a cape, but not about the rest of it. But Security says that he's likely to pull out all the stops to protect his daughter if we make accusations against her."

"Oh god." Taylor leaned back against the seat. "Him and Dad have been friends like forever." She looked hopefully at Amy. "Would that … ?"

_**Not in this case.**_

"I just got told, not in this case." She shrugged. "Well, it probably won't matter anyway. Because you know who _my_ mom is."

_Oh shit. After the scene we had earlier …_

_**So tell Vicky, and she can get your mom in on it.**_

_You're altogether too good at knowing which buttons to press, did you know that?_

_**Sorry, did you want me to be polite and ineffective, or actually get this shit sorted?**_

Amy sighed internally. _Point taken._

Taylor was looking curiously at Amy. _"Would_ your mom get involved?"

"Not sure." Amy shrugged.

_**You do know that Emma's dad works at the same firm as Carol does.**_

_Oh wait, does she?_

_**Sure. Alan Barnes.**_

… _yeah, I remember the name now. Huh._

She blinked. "Actually, I've just been reminded of something else. Emma's dad works at the same firm that Carol – Mom – does."

"Oh, okay," Taylor replied cautiously. "Is this a good thing or a bad thing?"

Amy grinned. "Well, if I can get Vicky to talk to her, and convince her in the matter, she might just step in and tell him to back off on any legal action."

Taylor took a deep breath. "That … would be good, I think." She glanced at Amy. "Do you think you'll be able to talk to your sister about all this, without outing me, that is?"

"Trust me," Amy told her with a roll of the eyes, "Vicky doesn't see anything that Vicky's not interested in seeing. She's very self-centred that way."

Taylor nodded. "Huh. Okay, cool. Should I bring Dad to school as well?"

_Should she?_

_**Hm. To be honest, I'm not sure. On the one hand, it might do well to turn up in force; on the other, that will slow things down, as they get their parents in as well.**_

_I could ask Carol her legal opinion on it._

_**Might help. Oh, just one thing. The 'social worker' who's going to be turning up to represent Sophia? That's her PRT handler. Just so you know.**_

Amy blinked. _Wow. Okay. Good to know._ Aloud, she went on. "Tell you what; I'll talk to Mom about it. See what she says."

"Yeah," agreed Taylor. "Might be a good idea." She smiled at Amy. "You know, when we first met, I wasn't at all sure that we were going to be getting along."

Amy snorted. "You put three poisonous spiders on me, and I hit you on the head with a fire extinguisher. The basis of a lifetime friendship."

"Which reminds me," Taylor observed. "What did you do to the spiders, anyway?"

"Oh, to screw up your control over them?" Amy shrugged. "I could see the parts of their brains that were sending back feedback, so I turned it from a tight, clean signal to one with as much garbage as possible."

"Well, it worked," Taylor admitted ruefully. "I could barely concentrate. You really did a number on me." She paused. "But what happened to the rest of them? Once I lost fine control, hell, I had no idea where they even were. They could've been biting everyone in the room, and I wouldn't have known."

Amy grinned. "Oh, uh, I found them on the people, paralysed them and left them sending back the same signal that they'd been sending when I touched them. Then I sent everyone upstairs while I tried to deal with you."

"Huh." Taylor blinked. "Wow, that nearly worked, too. It _did _work, right up until you clocked me with the extinguisher."

"Yeah, about that," Amy commented. "How's your head? I hit you pretty hard."

"Still sore," Taylor admitted. "How's yours?"

"Probably more sore," Amy confessed. "But I can do something about yours, if you want."

"I – uh - " Taylor hesitated.

Amy sighed. "If you're worrying about the threats I made back in the bank, don't be. I've learned a lot over the last few hours. Security's told me so much … I'm still getting my head around it all."

Taylor looked at her for a long moment. Then she nodded. "Okay."

Amy reached out and took her hand; Taylor did not stop her.

_Should I heal her?_

_**Up to you. But it's a good thing. You and Taylor could be good friends.**_

_Not -_

He chuckled. _**No, not **_**that_ kind of 'good friends'. She's straight, and you're … what you are. Just … friends. There's a synergy you two could reach with your powers; she controls bugs, and you can make new bugs._**

Amy began the process of fixing the damage. Taylor had sustained a very mild concussion, but nothing that would affect her. The bruising and swelling was also relatively mild, but she brought that down to nothing. She also noted the bite-marks on Taylor's arm, probably from Rachel's dogs. It was the work of a moment to fix that as well.

_I'm not sure if I want to enable her as a villain._

_**With you helping her, she could be a seriously effective hero. And what did I say about paying too much attention to descriptors? She wants to do the right thing. And, you know, save Dinah Alcott.**_

_If I hadn't told her about it … what would have happened?_

His voice was serious. _**She would have found out, eventually. And she would have quit the Undersiders in protest, when they didn't back her up in wanting Dinah freed. Because Coil had too tight a grasp on them, by then. And even Lisa didn't get the full implications.**_

_What happened in the end?_

**_Oh, she rejoined them, and they did end up freeing Dinah, and killing Coil. But that caused a whole other set of problems. Which is why I want to bring him down early._**

_Oh. Okay._

She let go Taylor's hand. "That should do it."

Taylor reached up and gingerly felt her head. "Huh. Doesn't hurt any more." More confidently, she touched her forearm. "And you fixed that too?"

Amy nodded. "One's as easy as the other."

"Well, thanks." Taylor smiled. "I appreciate it." She looked out the window of the bus. "Oh, this is my stop. So, this evening?"

"I'll be ready." Unbidden, Amy's hand came up, formed a fist.

Taylor blinked at it, then shrugged and bumped it with her own fist. "See you then."

"See you, Taylor." She watched Taylor get up and shoulder her bag, then make her way off the bus. As the bus pulled away from the curb again, she could see the tall, lanky figure making her way down the street.

_What was that about?_

_**Oh, it's a thing I did with her, last time. Seemed appropriate.**_

_Huh. Okay. So, you're serious about making new types of bugs for her, huh?_

_**Absolutely. It'll make life so much easier for both of you.**_

_Okay, I'll think about it. Got any ideas?_

He chuckled. _**Many.**_

_Okay, let's hear them._

As he began to speak, Amy leaned back to enjoy the bus ride.

Today had been a very interesting day, and it wasn't over yet.

* * *

><p>End of Part Seven<p> 


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